


Reflections of Heaven and Home

by morganoconner



Series: Reflections [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairing, Fourth Wall, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brought back to life and tossed into a world not his own, Gabriel finds himself unwittingly in the company of three humans...three humans who are both painfully familiar to him and vastly different from the people he left behind. In Jensen and Misha, he sees the same hidden longing he'd long since grown to recognize in Dean and Castiel, and with nothing else to occupy his attention, he sets out to do something about it the way he never could in his own world. Meanwhile, in Jared, he finds a partner-in-crime, a friend...and maybe something else he isn't entirely ready for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections of Heaven and Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 [](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/)**deancasbigbang** challenge.

He wasn’t aware of anything for a long time. Only darkness – penetrating, infinite, impossible. It carved at him, chewed him out from the inside, left him empty and scattered, but he had no body to feel pain, no voice with which to scream.

And then something changed. He was caught, cradled, _remade_. He was tossed back to Earth, slammed into the world with the force of a thunder strike, given new breath, new _life_ , by a Father who was _proud_ of him.

There was nothing.

And then there was _light_.

~*~

Jensen scrubbed a hand down his face tiredly, sitting on the tiny bed in his trailer and flipping through the new script with something that was almost like disgust, wondering if Eric and the writers were _trying_ to give the fangirls something to sink their teeth into.

Probably, come to think of it.

He’d thought they were past all this with the way the fifth season had ended, but clearly he’d been mistaken. Dean and Cas were back together, and more in each other’s space than _ever_. It was even worse, because for the first few episodes Dean was still separated from Sam, so there was no Jared to act as a balance. Not that he was really any wilder about the people who thought Dean should be fucking his _brother_ than the ones who thought he should be fucking his angel…but at least with all three of them on the screen, it seemed to calm things down a little on both ends of the spectrum.

Not that he paid enough attention to know that for sure, of course. The internet was more Misha’s area of expertise than his. And Misha seemed more inclined to _encourage_ the fans than to slow them down.

On the other hand though, at least it meant Misha was still hanging around. Misha hadn’t been sure if he was going to get signed on for season six or not, and Jensen and Jared had been as on edge waiting to hear one way or another as he had. They all worked well together, and Jensen would’ve been bummed to go back to the way things had been pre-Misha. He and Jared would always be…well, _Jensen and Jared_ , but Jensen had developed a strong friendship with Misha as well, and he was glad to get to keep the guy around for longer.

Fangirls or no fangirls.

Still…this was almost too much. What were the writers _thinking?_

He sighed and closed the script, tossing it onto the floor and flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he let his mind wander. He had nowhere on set he had to be for a few hours while they worked on Jared’s scenes and, in a perfect world, he’d be able to use the time to sleep. They’d had to be here at an ungodly hour of the morning, and he hadn’t slept well the night before. He’d been needed on set immediately to start with, the first scene they were filming picking up right in the middle of the episode, right in the middle of the action, and even though he and Jared had _just_ gotten back to work today, he already hurt in all those familiar places that always hurt when filming particularly grueling episodes. Sleep, at least, would help a little, if he could manage to get some in before they needed him back.

With that in mind, he tentatively let his eyes begin to drift close, let his body start to relax, his breathing slow… Slumber tugged at him, darkness curling around him and singing a sweet lullaby of blissful oblivion… He was so close, so close to beautiful dreamscapes and quiet unreality and…

He bolted upright when the door to his trailer banged open and Misha burst inside, grinning unrepentantly.

The first word to pop into Jensen’s head when he saw those sparkling blue eyes on that hugely grinning face was _murder_.

If the death-ray laser beams shooting from his eyes affected Misha in any way, he didn’t let on. He closed the door behind him and sauntered over to Jensen’s fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a deep swig before turning back around and raising an eyebrow at Jensen. “Hey Jen. Whatcha up to?”

“The hell does it _look_ like?” Jensen muttered, placing his pillow over his face, trying to block out the sight and sound of Misha Fucking Collins when all he wanted to do was _sleep_.

“It _looks_ like you’re being lazy,” Misha replied, plucking the pillow away, and good God, he really _did_ want Jensen to kill him, didn’t he? “And I have something so much more entertaining for you to do with your time than laying around here all day.”

Two hours. That’s all he wanted was two damn hours. Clearly, he’d done something to piss the universe off recently. “Misha. Go _away_ ,” he begged.

“No can do, Bright Eyes,” Misha replied cheerfully, and Jesus Christ, someday the man would learn to just use Jensen’s _name_. “C’mon, Jen, we’ve got a world to conquer!”

Jensen groaned as he sat up, trying not to let the sound turn into a pathetic sob. Clearly Misha wasn’t going to give up, and he was better off surrendering now. Maybe if he collapsed, the man would feel some sort of mild remorse and leave him the hell alone next time.

Okay, probably not, but one could dream.

“Thought that was your job,” he mumbled, climbing to his feet, weariness tugging him like a magnet, making it impossibly difficult to step away from the bed.

“Well, it is,” Misha agreed sagely. “But every conquering general needs his trusted lieutenant.”

Jensen slanted a look at him as he stepped out of his trailer into the too-bright sun. “So I’m basically your glorified sidekick?”

“Exactly.”

As bright as the sun was, it sort of dimmed in comparison to Misha’s grin.

~*~

He had a headache, was the first thing he noticed, because as a general rule, archangels didn’t _get_ headaches. Especially not dead archangels. Of course, he was also pretty sure that being dead didn’t hurt this much, which led to the conclusion that he maybe wasn’t as dead as he thought.

Using that much logic drove sharp spikes of pain into his skull, and he moaned, shifting to try and move his hand enough to rub at his temples.

It wasn’t easy. He was lying on his stomach, one arm twisted and pinned underneath him, the other stretched above his head and seemingly unwilling to listen to basic directions like _move_. In the deep recesses of his brain, he also realized he was naked, but in the scheme of things, that didn’t seem as important as the rest of it.

He finally managed to force his body to roll over, and he lay with his eyes closed as blood rushed into his arm, filling it with a pins-and-needles feeling he’d heard about, but never experienced. It wasn’t pleasant, and he decided he’d keep it in mind if he somehow ever found his way back to his Trickster lifestyle.

It was a chore, making his eyes open, and when he finally managed to fight his way past the sticky molasses feeling, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Sunlight stabbed into them, and his head felt like it was going to _explode_ , pain lancing through it and throbbing there in time to his heartbeat.

He whimpered, squeezed them shut tightly and withdrew into himself, searching, praying…

 _There_. A steady pulse of light, faint, so faint, but still there. His grace wasn’t gone, just weakened. Weakened enough that he was feeling things the mortal way, but it beat being dead.

Sort of.

Very, very cautiously, he slit his eyes open again and blearily took in his surroundings. Once he got past the burning evilness that was the sun, he noted that there was a lot of green. That, coupled with what felt like a stick digging into his back, indicated he was probably in a forest.

He doubted his body could handle sitting up very well, but sheer stubbornness had him trying anyway. He made it a few inches up, putting his weight onto his elbows, before it got to be too much and he fell back with a pained cry.

Okay. He was going to take a good long look at the things he’d done in his past, he _swore_ , because this karma thing both sucked and blew. Really, this could _only_ be his Dad’s fault, and it seemed the big guy was big on poetic justice these days. Figured.

 _Dad, I swear, you get me out of this, I will never, ever, ever go back to being a Trickster_ , he prayed fervently. _I’ll even try to make nice with Mike and Raphael. And…and…I’ll give up chocolate! Well, okay, not that…you can’t expect that…but I swear, I’ll try, anything else you want!_

The only thing to answer him was birdsong and rustling leaves, and he blew out a breath, unsurprised. God being back didn’t mean He was going to get any more involved with His kids than He already had been, and Gabriel knew it. He should have just counted his blessings that the guy gave a crap at all, enough to bring him back, because it wasn’t like Gabriel deserved it.

His thoughts were going muddled and fuzzy, and he thought he was maybe about to pass out, from pain or exhaustion or some other mortal-type affliction, and he tried to force himself past it, because he didn’t think he liked the idea of getting sucked back into unconsciousness. It reminded him a little too deeply of what it was like being dead, his consciousness torn and scattered into the cosmos along with his grace. He hadn’t really been _aware_ then, but somehow he could still recall it now, and it made him shudder violently.

The voices started out as nothing more than a buzzing sound in his ears, but the longer he lay there fighting his body’s desire for unconsciousness, the louder and clearer they got, and he realized they sounded familiar. Higher pitched, maybe, and more cheerful than he was used to, but he _knew_ those voices. He never thought he’d be so grateful to hear them again.

He tried to move, wanting to be able to give them his usual smirk and pretend that everything was okay, because clearly, if they were here, they’d won, and everything _was_ okay, besides, y’know, _him_ at the moment. But they beat the devil back into the box, and the world was still spinning, and he wanted to congratulate them on a job well done, he really did. But he’d lost the ability to do much more than open his eyes again and watch as they entered the clearing he’d landed in.

He couldn’t make out their expressions, but he saw the exact moment they caught sight of him, because they stopped very suddenly. He couldn’t hear their words anymore either, and he was fading fast, but he thought he at least managed to say, “Hey, bro,” in a raspy voice that didn’t sound anything like his normal self before darkness slipped in and claimed him again.

~*~

Jensen was kneeling by the still figure on the ground before he realized he’d even moved from Misha’s side. “Richard? C’mon, buddy, wake up.” He pressed two fingers to his neck, sighed in relief when he found a steady pulse. Just unconscious then. Not good, but not dire. He hoped.

This was what he got for letting Misha convince him that going on a hike in the middle of a workday was a good idea, and he wasn’t going to start thinking about what Richard was doing here, or why he was naked, or what the chances had been of them finding him. He just _wasn’t_ , because if he did, he’d lose it. The exhaustion that had been dogging him all day was gone thanks to adrenaline, but he still wasn’t fully with it, not enough to be able to handle questions that had no answers.

Misha crouched down on Richard’s other side after a moment, his cell phone held loosely in his hand. He looked shell-shocked as he stared down at the unconscious man, and when he looked back up at Jensen, his eyes were wide and his face pale.

“Did you call an ambulance?” Jensen asked.

Misha looked down at his phone like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “No…” Those eyes came up again. “Jen, that’s not…”

Jensen blinked. “Not _what?_ ” He made a grab for the phone, and Misha released his hold on it without protest. “What the hell, man, your friend is lying on the ground and calling for help is too difficult for you?”

“Not _Richard_ ,” Misha breathed out. “It’s not Richard.”

Jensen froze. “What do you mean, _not Richard?_ Of course it is.” Same short stature, same wavy hair, same facial expressions, for the ten seconds he’d seen them before the guy passed out.

“Richard has a…” Misha flailed wordlessly for a second, indicating around his chest area, and holy crap, was he _blushing?_ “He has a piercing.”

Jensen blinked again, not processing for a long moment. “Richard Speight Jr….has a _nipple piercing?_ ”

“Since just after Changing Channels.” Yeah, that was _definite_ blushing there.

“I’m not even going to ask how the hell you know that.”

“It’s a long story,” Misha mumbled. “Point is, it’s not Richard. I _called_ Richard, just to be sure.” He waved a hand at the phone still clutched in Jensen’s hand, the number for an emergency half-dialed on the screen. “He’s still filming in California.”

Jensen looked down at the unconscious figure, then back up at Misha, his mind feeling too sluggish to deal with whatever it was Misha was trying to say. “Well, fuck, if it’s not Richard…”

Misha blew out a breath. “I don’t…” Swallowed. “Jen, this is gonna sound completely insane.”

With Misha, that was sometimes par for the course, but Jensen suddenly had a Very Bad Feeling he knew what Misha was about to say. “No way, man. That isn’t… No way.”

Misha’s eyes found his. “He called me ‘bro’. He thought he knew me.”

“ _Misha_. Think about what the hell you’re about to say.” Jensen’s heart pounded because, _No Fucking Way_ was he getting caught up in this. Richard had a twin or something. They said everybody in the world had a twin somewhere, and they’d just happened to stumble upon Richard’s, three miles from their filming location, naked in the middle of a forest. It was strange, but it still made more sense than –

“I think that’s…Gabriel,” Misha said, his eyes closing like even _he_ couldn’t believe what he was saying. “It’s…c’mon Jensen, I’m willing to believe in coincidences once in a while, but… _come on_.”

Jensen stared, his jaw slack. Misha had really gone there and said it. Shit. What the hell was he supposed to do now? “Look, I don’t care if he’s an insane fan or Richard playing a prank or the archangel Gabriel from another universe or fucking _Madonna_ at this point, the guy needs a hospital. We can…figure it out after that.”

Misha hesitated, his eyes on…whoever the man in front of them was. Then he nodded, waving at the phone still clutched in Jensen’s hand. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Jensen dialed.

~*~

He didn’t succumb to the darkness for long. His grace was weak, but it was there, and he grasped at it, not allowing himself to fall too deeply into unconsciousness. For a while, he just drifted, the weakened flow of grace pulsing through him, healing the worst of his injuries, bringing him back slowly. By the time he felt relatively certain he could open his eyes again, he was aware of two things.

The two people who’d found him were not Dean and Castiel.

And he was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

He heard them talking in low voices, and the numbers on a phone being dialed, but didn’t think much of it until he heard the operator on the other end asking what the state of their emergency was.

Oh, _hells_ no.

The finger-snap was instinctive, the flare of grace biting hard and sharp and using almost all of the energy he’d just spent who knew how long getting back…but it accomplished his goal. He opened his eyes to see Dean’s… _not_ -Dean’s…eyes go wide and his jaw drop when the phone vanished abruptly from his hand. He made an amusing choking sound, and his eyes shot to the Castiel look-alike.

The blue-eyed man was watching Gabriel, but when he spoke, it was clearly to his companion. “I, ah…suppose that answers that question.”

Gabriel swallowed harshly, not trying to sit up, not this time. If he were to fall unconscious, he didn’t think he had enough grace readily available to him to claw his way back on his own terms this time, not yet. “No damn hospitals,” he managed to say.

He didn’t _need_ a hospital, damn it, no matter how messed up he appeared to be. And he couldn’t risk it. Whatever else was going on, this place was real, it was _earth_ , and if these mooks weren’t Dean and Castiel, then who knew what was actually going on with the apocalypse. It didn’t _feel_ like the end of the world, but…

“How’d you do that?”

The words were growled, and wow, did _that_ sound like Dean Winchester. Gabriel met the green-eyed gaze that laser-beamed on him and somehow pulled off a smirk. “Like I’m gonna share my secrets with _you_. I don’t even _know_ you.”

“But you thought you did.”

And that was the other one, the one who looked too much like his brother but was so clearly, painfully human.

And obviously too smart for his own good. Gabriel glared at him, didn’t answer.

“You thought you knew us both,” the guy prodded. “You thought I was your brother, didn’t you?” His eyes glinted. “You thought I was Castiel.”

Gabriel went rigid, shock coursing through him. Pain lanced through suddenly tense muscles, but he barely noticed as fury swept over him. “Who are you?” he demanded.

~*~

If Jensen was uncomfortable, sitting here in the living room of Misha’s apartment two hours later, it was nothing to how Gabriel – Jesus Christ, _Gabriel_ – looked, wearing a pair of Misha’s jeans and a plain gray t-shirt, both of which were too big on him, while he stared at them after Misha gave the best explanation he could come up with.

Which, yeah, sounded about as insane spoken out loud as Jensen had thought it would.

But.

There really wasn’t any denying the facts anymore. Not with Gabriel’s eyes focused on him so intently, burning with something undeniably otherworldly. Not when he’d gone from practically comatose on the ground to awake and coherent and looking almost reasonably _healthy_ by the time they were seated here. And…yeah, all right, not with the phone-vanishing act.

“So let me get this straight,” Gabriel said, something like disgust in his tone. “In this universe that my Father saw fit to drop me into, my life…my _brothers’_ lives…are part of a…television show. And you two chuckleheads are…part of the team of actors who… _acted out_ the apocalypse that almost destroyed the lives of everyone and everything I give a crap about.” Golden-amber eyes flicked from Jensen to Misha and back again. “That about sum it up?”

Jensen glanced at Misha, saw the other man looking at the ground. No help from there, then. He took a breath, looked back to Gabriel. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” _Minus the part where we’ve all lost our goddamn minds._ “It’s like our show is a…mirror of your world. Or something.” Jensen was really having a hard time believing the words coming out of his own mouth.

Gabriel’s eyes slid upward. “Thanks Dad!” he yelled, and yeah, there was some genuine wrath there. For a second, Jensen sort of wanted to back away, and he realized he felt genuinely sorry for the guy. Archangel. Whatever. “That’s cute, really! Very nicely done!”

“Why can’t you just…” Jensen looked at Misha, who had his head tilted in a distinctly Castiel-like manner as he snapped his fingers. “I mean, in theory isn’t this to you just like TV Land?”

Gabriel gave a very put-upon sigh. “No. _This_ , much as I wish otherwise, is very real. _That_ was just an illusion. A damn good one, if I do say so myself. But still an illusion. And I’m…not exactly running on a full battery right now. Not powerless, but definitely not what I should be. Whether it’s Dad blocking my grace or my grace needing time to recharge or just this place…even if I _could_ get out of here, it won’t be right away, not until it’s back. And I don’t know if it’s possible even then.”

“So you might be stuck here,” Jensen said warily.

Gabriel’s smile was grim, his eyes unhappy. “Looks that way.”

Well. That was just _great_.

Even better was when Jensen’s phone rang, and one look at the caller ID had him groaning. “Eric.”

Misha blinked, huffed out a laugh that sounded just this side of hysterical and had Jensen staring at him. “Probably wondering, y’know, where we vanished off to.”

“Jesus.” He ignored it, tried desperately to come up with something he could tell his boss the next time he called. Unfortunately, when Jensen’s phone started ringing again a second later, it wasn’t Eric’s name that flashed across the screen. It was Jared’s, and Jensen just sighed, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. _Perfect_.

~*~

While the two humans sat in the living room and ardently discussed what they should or shouldn’t tell someone who he assumed was their boss, Gabriel wandered. The apartment he found himself in was… _normal_ , and it bothered him. It was exactly what he would have found back home in any regular human dwelling… a regular apartment with all the regular trappings humans seemed to rely on so much. Photographs on the walls, food in the fridge, a healthy collection of interesting-looking porn in the closet…

Normal.

But there was no connection to his brothers and sisters, no supernatural energy…either from Heaven _or_ Hell…he could detect anywhere. His Father had dropped him into a universe identical to his own in every way…to the _humans_.

So what was an archangel supposed to do in a world where angels didn’t exist except in stories on a page, or in a Heaven so far away and so vastly different from the one he knew that he would never risk going there? What was an archangel who’d been on the run for millennia supposed to do when suddenly, desperately, all he wanted was to go home…and he couldn’t?

At least he wasn’t powerless. His grace was weak…a hell of a lot weaker than it had ever been before. But still there, and getting stronger. He still had his wings, and once he was fully healed, he’d be able to fly again, even if he didn’t have anywhere to fly _to_.

And he was in a world that was untouched by the apocalypse. A world where demons weren’t roving and angels weren’t killing each other, and okay, that right there was kind of a nice bonus if he had to be here. Lucifer wasn’t walking around free, and, if what the humans in the other room had told him was true, he could be reasonably assured that humanity was safe in his own world as well, even if he couldn’t be there to see it.

His little brother was safe, and his older brothers, who’d been so bent on destroying everything, were locked away, and that counted for something.

That counted for a lot.

He was going to be stuck here. He didn’t know for how long, or if he’d ever be allowed to go home, but for now he was going to be stuck here, and that was something he was going to have to come to terms with.

Well. He’d acclimated, eventually, to roaming around on earth pretending to be a pagan god. He could acclimate to roaming around here pretending to be a human.

How hard could it be?

~*~

Unsurprisingly, Jared didn’t believe him. It wasn’t like Jensen _expected_ him to, because as crazy as Jared could be, the guy _was_ sane.

Mostly.

So telling him that a dead archangel straight out of their show had shown up in the middle of the forest buck-naked was never going to go over particularly well. Jensen knew this.

But Jared was his best friend, and hell, they _lived_ together. So it wasn’t like hiding it was exactly an option. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed into the receiver. “Look Jay, just come to Misha’s place when they let you go, okay? We’ll talk then.”

He could practically _hear_ Jared’s eye-roll. “All right, fine, and tell Misha you guys owe me so big for covering for your sorry asses. Seriously Jen, you better have a good excuse. _Besides_ an archangel hiding in your closet.”

Jensen bit back the reply about Gabriel actually rummaging around in the refrigerator, figuring it wouldn’t score him any best friend points right now, mumbled out some sort of goodbye, and thumbed the button to end the call. He wasn’t often on Jared’s shit list, but he could admit he maybe kind of deserved it this time. You didn’t just up and disappear on your co-star on the first day back filming. That was _asking_ for trouble.

He really, really wanted to blame Misha, but the guy looked as lost as he did, his gaze darting every now and then around the apartment, listening to the sounds of Gabriel exploring, blue eyes wide and lost.

“You all right?” Jensen asked quietly.

Misha glanced over at him, blinking a few times and running a hand over his face. “Yeah. Yeah, just…tired.” He quirked a reassuring grin at Jensen that did little to actually reassure him. Still, it was a relief, in a way, to realize that Misha was as baffled by – and as edgy about – this whole thing as he was.

“Either of you two crazy kids wanna tell me why there’s no chocolate in this place?”

The sound Jensen made was something between a laugh and a sob as he looked over at Gabriel, who was standing in the entranceway to the kitchen with an eyebrow raised, clearly trying not to pout.

~*~

Gabriel couldn’t help the way his eyes kept flicking over to the two humans. _Jensen_ and _Misha_ , and he was going to have to start remembering that. Although honestly, could their names be any stranger? And could he really be blamed for the way he saw them and instantly thought _Dean_ and _Castiel_?

They weren’t the same. Weren’t even _close_ to the same. For one thing, Misha’s soul swirled with colors, every color imaginable, vibrant and rich and _happy_. There was no grace-bright radiance there, nothing that could ever remind Gabriel of his brothers and sisters. And Jensen was… _peaceful_ , in a way Dean had never learned. Even at his most confused, most upset, most _annoyed_ , there was something about Jensen that always seemed calm.

But Misha’s eyes were as warm and curious as Castiel’s ever were, and Jensen certainly had a part of the spitfire personality that got Dean in so much trouble almost everywhere he went.

And the way they looked at each other, when the other was turned away…so completely unaware they were even doing it, so wrapped up in themselves and the problems around them that they didn’t _see_ …

That could never be anything _except_ familiar.

It bugged the hell out of him.

The knock on the door snapped Gabriel out of his ponderings, and he watched curiously as the humans – _Jensen_ and _Misha_ , damn it – exchanged a significant look before Misha went to answer.

And then Gabriel stopped thinking altogether.

 _Dazzling_ was the first word that popped into his head. The man on the other side of the door was _bright_ , his soul so untarnished, so…so… _happy_. He knew those hazel eyes, that incessantly floppy hair, but there was no darkness _anywhere_ , no black threads of hellfire laced in, mixing with that too-bright soul the way he was familiar with, the way _Sam’s_ soul was, and it was… _overwhelming_.

He was gaping, and some part of him knew it, but he’d forgotten how to work his jaw, or how to turn away.

This…this was bad. This was Very, Very Bad.

And then those hazel eyes fixed on him, and went wide with something that resembled shock, and he was able to pull himself together again. He closed his mouth, stuck a smirk firmly on his face, and fired off a sardonic salute.

“Richard? I thought you were filming.” The new arrival sounded puzzled, and Gabriel was getting a little tired of being confused with this random human he had no intention of ever coming into contact with.

Jensen, meanwhile, was actually _sniggering_. Like it was some big joke. Like messing with his friend this way was _fun_ somehow, even despite his own confusion and wariness.

Gabriel could get behind that.

His eyes zeroed in on the slight bulge in the Sam look-alike’s pocket, and he tilted his head. “Gummi bears? Really?” He felt for the ebbs and flows of his grace, considering.

The man laughed a little, at ease because he thought Gabriel was someone he wasn’t. “Dude, get your own,” he said with a grin.

Gabriel looked up again, met the man’s eyes, let his lips curve. “Why waste the energy creating my own…” He snapped his fingers, greedily fisted the bag that appeared in his other hand. “…when it takes so much less effort just to steal yours?” He opened the bag and popped a few in his mouth, ignoring the gobsmacked expression on his newest victim’s face as he grinned at the incredulous laughter from both Misha and Jensen.

Jensen stood up, smirking at his friend and somehow looking more at ease than he had had since Gabriel met him. “Gabriel, this is Jared,” he said, waving a hand at the befuddled sasquatch in the doorway. “Jared…meet Gabriel.”

~*~

“You brought an archangel home with you.” Jared’s voice was a low, furious whisper as he paced the hallways outside the apartment, stopping every few seconds to stare at Jensen incredulously. The initial shock had worn off a while ago, and he’d gotten progressively more fidgety until finally Jensen had dragged him out to talk. “You brought an _archangel_ – a _fictional archangel_ – home with you.”

“Well Jesus, Jay, it wasn’t my first choice, believe me. But what the hell’d you expect me to do, leave the guy where he was to suffer? Leave him there for somebody _else_ to come across? Somebody who wouldn’t exactly be as understanding about who he is?” Jensen spread his arms. “What the hell else _should_ I have done, then?”

“I don’t know,” Jared said tightly, crossing his arms. “And, Jesus, it’s not like I think you should’ve _left_ the guy there, of course I don’t, but this is all… it doesn’t make any sense! _None of this_ makes any sense, and while we’re on the subject, why are you so understanding about everything? Jen, there’s an _archangel_ roaming around in there!”

“Yes, thank you Jared, I wasn’t aware!” Jensen snapped. He scrubbed his hands over his face, glanced at the closed door to Misha’s apartment. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know all of us have a thousand and one questions, but look, he’s proven pretty adequately that he is who he says he is, as crazy as it might be, and he’s got nowhere else to go. You’re an actor, Jared…put yourself in his shoes for a second. Try to imagine how you’d feel.”

He watched the play of emotions over his friend’s face, saw exactly when it clicked, when Jared’s eyes started to go soft and understanding and that crazy-big heart of his came roaring up to the surface. “All right,” he finally said. “All right, I get it, I do…sort of…but what the hell do we do now? Misha’s apartment is too small for two people, let alone a person and… _him_. And eventually, somebody else is going to see him, and how do you plan on explaining that?”

Jensen hesitated. “I know it’s not exactly ideal, but…it’s not like _we_ don’t have the space, at least for now. And…we’ll worry about other people later, when things are calmer.” He caught Jared’s eyes, pleading, a little baffled by _himself_ , by how much he apparently cared about this. “You didn’t see him, Jay. When we found him…I would’ve sworn he was dead. And I know enough about slipping into character to know he’s not exactly dealing well, being here.”

Jared blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “All right. You’ve got a point, we have the space and he needs a place to stay. We’ll…work it out, I guess. Should be interesting, at the very least.” And there was a more familiar Jared-type grin. That was good. Intrigued-Jared would be much easier to deal with than worried-Jared, and Jensen had enough on his plate without having to watch out for a mood swing from his best friend.

Of course, if Misha thought _he_ was getting out of _his_ part in dealing with this crazy situation, the man had another thing coming, and you’d better believe Jensen was going to let him know it.

~*~

 

He couldn’t even conjure himself a bar of chocolate, so it was unlikely he was going to be able to snap his fingers and wish a place to live into existence. That’s the only reason he even stopped to consider the crazy offer tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum made to stay with them until they all ‘figured things out’.

When he found his eyes sliding to Misha’s, looking for an opinion, it took him by surprise, because it wasn’t like he knew this blue-eyed stranger any better than he knew the wonder twins who were bantering by the doorway, but…Misha was different. He was open, and curious, and in the fifteen minutes Jared and Jensen had been out in the hallway arguing, Gabriel had appreciated the fact that Misha didn’t allow enough time for an awkward silence to grow between them, instead distracting Gabriel with questions about, of all things, what it felt like to be an angel.

And Gabriel had surprised himself by answering most of his questions not with a trademark witty comeback, but with genuine honesty. Maybe he was more homesick than he’d actually realized, but it had helped, sharing what it felt like to be wrapped in the grace of his family, what it felt like to spread his wings, what it felt like to have the power he’d always taken for granted at his fingertips…and what it felt like to suddenly have all of it taken away. He’d _wanted_ to talk about it, Father help him.

It Misha had dared to look pitying at any moment, Gabriel would have probably killed himself willing enough grace together to smite the man on the spot. But…he hadn’t. He’d just nodded, asking more questions with a curious head-tilt that was entirely too familiar, delving deeper into Gabriel’s psyche than Gabriel would have, in normal circumstances, ever been comfortable with.

He _liked_ Misha. He wasn’t actually sure he liked that he liked Misha, but apparently there was no getting around the fact that he did. Even if the man’s interactions – or _non_ -interactions as the case may be – with Jensen were maddening, Gabriel couldn’t help but like him.

Maybe _this_ was what it meant to be homeless…grasping onto whatever he could, desperate for any attachments he could form, creating bonds of friendship that in any other time, in any other _place_ , never would have happened.

Misha met his inquiring gaze as Jensen and Jared continued to squabble like children, and he nodded slightly, his eyes sparkling, a half-smile on his face. _They’re good guys_ , the look said. _You can trust them_.

Gabriel didn’t want to trust anyone right now. Killed by his brother, cast away by his Father, the idea of _trust_ hadn’t really gotten him very far in his long existence. But, against all his better judgment, he trusted Misha. And there was something about Jensen…and especially about _Jared_ …that made him want to trust them too. Something inside him that craved what they offered, for however long he could have it.

He winked at Misha, flipped a gummi bear into the air and caught it in his mouth before shooting a cocky grin at Jared. “Hope you guys don’t snore. I’d hate to have to get all smite-y in the middle of the night.”

~*~

In hindsight, they maybe should have thought to warn Gabriel about the dogs. As it was, Jensen didn’t even think about it until he’d already unlocked the door, and Harley was barreling straight for the new stranger in their midst.

“Harley!” Jared shouted, but they both knew it was too late. The dog had already lunged, his giant paws catching Gabriel in the chest, tongue slobbering all over his face as the archangel stumbled back and went down.

This was not going to end well. Jensen braced himself, preparing for some sort of wrathful vengeance even as Jared tried to drag the insane mutt away from their new houseguest.

Until he heard the laughter.

Gabriel…Gabriel the _archangel_ …was laughing like a maniac.

Jensen’s mind skidded to a halt at that point, because okay, yes, he’d seen signs – and knew the scripts well enough – to know that Gabriel wasn’t what you’d call a typical angel, inasmuch as Jensen had ever really believed in such things. He knew that Gabriel had a sense of…fun. But seeing him, knowing what he was and _seeing him_ as he laughed and played with the gigantic dog on top of him, was just too much.

“Holy shit,” Jared said, sounding a little bit awed. He was grinning, though, when Jensen was able to drag his eyes away from the spectacle long enough to glance at him.

Gabriel sat up, rubbing Harley’s ears affectionately. “Who’s a good boy?” he asked the ridiculously happy dog, and set Harley off all over again, his tail wagging so hard his entire body shook as he continued to bathe Gabriel’s face with kisses. Sadie came over in that moment, and Gabriel’s face lit up even further as she sat down by him and Harley, holding a paw out toward him. He shook it with all the air and decorum of nobility, and then proceeded to give her the same ear-rubbing treatment he’d given Harley.

Both dogs looked like they were in doggie-Heaven.

Jensen took all of this in with slack-jawed amazement. “So…you’re a dog person,” he finally said, when Gabriel was able to shove the dogs away long enough to stand.

Gabriel _beamed_. “Between you and me, they’re a lot smarter than most people. Who _wouldn’t_ love a dog?” Harley and Sadie both rubbed against him, and he looked away to grace them with more fond pets.

So it was the archangel who missed the entirely-too-adoring look Jared was wearing.

Jensen wasn’t nearly so blind.

~*~

With the exception of waking up in the forest earlier, which he was pretty sure didn’t count anyway, it had been years – a lot more years than he was willing to think about – since Gabriel had prayed to his Father for anything…guidance, or comfort, or answers, or _faith_ …. He’d stopped praying the very moment he’d turned his back on Heaven.

But now, lying in the dark guest bedroom Jensen had shown him to when he’d first been brought to this house, he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes and opening himself to the currents of grace he could feel thrumming beneath the skin he wore.

It had been so long, so very, very long…but an angel didn’t forget how to pray.

“Hey Dad,” he said softly, barely breathing it into the still night. The words released something inside of him, threw the lock back on the lid that had been closed over the very heart of his being. He took a breath, released it, and more words came, easier with each passing moment. “Guess I should thank you, for bringing me back. If there was ever anyone _less_ worthy of the favor, I can’t really think of ‘em. So just…thanks. For the second chance. Even if you mean for me to stay here, I’ll…make it work. Try and be better. I promise.

“Just…do me a favor, huh? Try not to let things get so bad again with the family? Or keep Castiel in charge. He’ll do a good job…if the people here are right and he’s really okay. Watch out for the kid. He’s…better than all the rest of us ever were. I wish…I wish I could know for sure that he and the Winchester bozos are okay. Guess I’ll have to take it on faith.” Gabriel’s lips twisted, and a tear he tried to hold back slipped from under his closed eyes. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I missed you. I’m glad to know for sure you’re still around. And as much as I hated you for it…I think I understand. Why you left. And I still…I still love you, Dad. Always did, even when I tried to forget.”

He turned onto his side, feeling hollowed out and exhausted, and curled around one of the pillows Jensen had provided him with. He drifted off to a sensation of light and love and warmth and forgiveness, and when he dreamed, he dreamed of flying.

~*~

Jensen woke to a pillow to the face, and he was able to make his feelings about that clear with a hand gesture before his mind was even fully processing his new state of wakefulness. He blinked open bleary eyes and glared balefully at the intruder in his bedroom. Jared appeared entirely unrepentant, and it was while he was wondering why this situation seemed vaguely familiar that he began to recall being woken yesterday, and everything that had happened as a result. “Fuck,” was about the extent of his coherency.

“Up and at ‘em, Ackles,” Jared said cheerfully. He was awake and sweaty and chipper from his morning run, and Jensen was inclined to hate him, just for a little while. “Better get moving if you’re going to start your day of groveling to Eric right.”

“Fuck,” Jensen muttered again, but this time he managed to swing his legs out of bed. As a reward, he was presented with a cup of coffee. Jensen decided that it was possible he might forgive Jared after all.

“You have fun with Misha today,” Jared said, his grin widening. “I’ll think of you two while I relax with video games and chocolate chip cookies. Since _some people_ up and vanished from the set, leaving me to be forced to stay and finish most of my own shooting, I was granted an unexpected day off. Suppose I should thank you for that, though, all things considered.”

The best friend meter swung firmly back to hatred, and Jensen groaned, standing and grabbing the first clothes that came readily to hand. “Eric was pissed, wasn’t he?”

“That’s putting it mildly, man. I smoothed things over as much as I could, but yeah…I meant it about the groveling.”

“Wonderful.” It wasn’t anything unexpected, though. He and Misha were a big part of the episode, and big part of the _show_ , and to disappear off set on the _first day_ of filming… “Fuck.” He sighed. “Well, since you’ll be here anyway, you get to take Gabriel shopping. Guy could use some clothes that actually fit him.”

Jared blinked at him as he left the room to go take a shower, and Jensen shook his head, resigned to the fact that yeah, Jared could be a little clueless sometimes.

On his way to the bathroom, he stopped and gently pushed the door to the guest room open, surprised to see Gabriel still sound asleep, one arm draped over Sadie, who had curled herself in next to him after her run. Harley was lying close to Gabriel’s other side, his head raised as he watched Jensen. He looked every inch the protective guardian he’d never really appeared to be before, and for a long moment, Jensen could only stare at the scene in front of him.

Later, he would pretend he hadn’t seen the tear tracks on the archangel’s face, or the way one hand had been clutched so tightly around a single black feather that somehow, Jensen just _knew_ wasn’t one of Gabriel’s own.

~*~

Gabriel snickered.

Jared stared for long moments at the television screen before finally throwing down the controller in disgust. “C’mon, man, _seriously?_ How does an _archangel_ get to be better at video games than me?”

“Don’t take it too hard, kiddo. It would take more than just luck to beat the master.” Gabriel patted Jared’s arm in a consoling manner.

Jared scowled at him. “I’m tempted to wonder if you were somehow cheating.”

Gabriel blinked at him innocently. “I can barely conjure a Hershey bar, and you think I used my mojo to beat you at Mario Kart? _Please_. I was the reason they _invented_ video games, and you think I can’t beat you on my own merit?”

“That’s gotta be quite the story,” Jared said with a laugh. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

Leaning back against the couch, Gabriel grinned. “I just might, at that,” he said, and meant it. After spending the better part of the morning and afternoon with the younger of his new housemates, he was willing to admit, at least to himself, that there was a _reason_ he was so drawn to the kid. He and Jared just _clicked_ , in a way that was vastly different from the way he connected with Misha. Jared had a wicked sense of humor, he knew how to _laugh_ , and he gave as good as he got. And he didn’t seem inclined to allow Gabriel time to dwell on things like being stuck in a world he was so unfamiliar with, or the silence of his brothers and sisters, or the black feather that was tucked in the pocket of his comfortable new jeans.

How easy he was on the eyes certainly didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t about attraction. It couldn’t be, Gabriel wouldn’t _allow_ it to be. Jared was a friend, like Misha, even like Jensen. For someone who had been alone for as long as he had, Gabriel was learning to appreciate friendships…even ones that formed too quickly and felt too close.

“So how’s Jensen with a controller?” he asked, willing his mind away from the deep angsty stuff for a while. He’d had enough of that the last twenty-four hours, thanks.

Jared snorted. “He was never great, but these days, I think a twelve year old girl could kick his butt.” He smirked. “Maybe if he wasn’t too busy daydreaming about a certain blue-eyed co-star he’d be able to get his head out of his ass long enough to give me a challenge once in a while.” It was a full thirty second before his eyes widened and he groaned. “ _Shit_. I can’t believe I just said that.”

Gabriel stared.

And stared.

And kept right on staring, until he burst into gales of delighted laughter. “Hell, kid, I _knew_ there was a reason I liked you!”

Jared cringed. “Guess that means you saw it too, at least,” he said, still looking guilty for giving away his best friend’s biggest secret. He sighed, shrugged. “Chemistry like what they have onscreen doesn’t come from nowhere. I mean, really, it’s been there since _day one_.” He glanced at Gabriel. “Sorry, I don’t know what Dean and Castiel are like together, but if things in your world are as connected to here as they seem to be…” He looked away, shook his head. “The only ones who don’t see it are _them_. It’s ridiculous, man, you have no idea.”

Gabriel thought of familiar desperate thoughts and longing glances. Of a man’s belief that he lacked self-worth, and an angel’s naïveté to the things he was feeling. Of bonds formed between soul and grace and hearts. Of so much time wasted, even at the end of the world.

Yeah, it was a safe bet he had some idea.

He couldn’t help Dean and Castiel, didn’t know if he could have even if he _was_ back home…but he’d be damned if he was going to sit here and watch the same thing happen all over again. He turned to look consideringly at Jared. “Well, what say you and I do something about it?”

Jared froze, then turned an incredulous look at the archangel. “Are you serious?”

Gabriel clutched a hand over his heart dramatically. “You _wound_ me! I’m _always_ serious!”

“Uh huh.” Jared raised an eyebrow.

“Just listen. You know Jensen, better’n anyone I’d guess. And you’ve got a _Trickster_ on your side. Even if my battery’s running a little low at the moment, I’m not exactly useless. We could totally pull this off. So c’mon, let’s play matchmaker. It’ll be _fun_.”

“What do you get out of this?” Jared asked, his expression nothing more than curious, though Gabriel knew that was bullshit. Kid was an _actor_ , if there was one thing they knew, it was hiding their real thoughts when it counted.

The question set Gabriel on edge, but he tried to ignore it, shrugging carelessly. “Do you know the _frustration_ of watching two people circle each other _endlessly_ , and never getting any closer to doing what they actually want to do? It’s _maddening_. So I get some peace of mind. If I’m gonna be stuck here, might as well make my stay as angst-free as possible, right?”

It was more than that. It was doing here what he couldn’t do at home, _helping_ the people who could never be those he’d left behind, but were as close as he could get in this place.

It was trying to make amends for past wrongs in the only ways he could.

Jared didn’t need to know any of that, but he looked at Gabriel for a long time, and the archangel had the uncomfortable feeling that maybe he got some of it anyway, because his eyes went soft and understanding before he finally nodded with a grin. “Cool. Let’s do it.”

A smile, a genuine smile, crept over Gabriel’s face, and he ducked his head. “You’re pretty okay, Jared,” he said. Glancing at the bag of candy he had been munching from throughout the afternoon, he hesitated, then held it out with a wide, more familiar-feeling grin. “Gummi bear?”

If he delighted in the helpless laughter that tumbled from Jared’s lips, well, no one had to know but him.

~*~

“Drinks?” Misha offered at the end of the very long day.

“God, yes.” Jensen couldn’t immediately recall a time he’d been worked this hard in a single day. It was worse with the steely looks Eric had kept sending both of them throughout, but at least those had finally calmed down by the end. They’d nailed every scene, and they were even ahead of schedule – something that was a damn miracle, with only two days of shooting behind them.

Misha nodded toward his trailer, and Jensen followed wearily, feeling like he’d gone three rounds with a tractor-trailer, and lost. He collapsed into a chair the second he was inside, was barely able to lift his hand to grab hold of the beer Misha held out to him. “Thanks,” he mumbled, the word coming out slightly slurred. He took a long pull on the drink before setting it carefully on the ground so he could rub at his eyes.

“When he glanced back up, Misha was watching him with an unreadable expression. “You look like hell,” the older actor said.

Jensen snorted. “Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.” The smirk formed before he could even will it into being. “Thanks for that.” He sighed, blinking to try and focus his increasingly blurred vision. “’Sides, I’m blaming you for this.”

“Oh?” Misha asked, his lips quirking as he took a few swallows of his own beer.

“Damn straight. I’da gotten the sleep I needed if some jackass hadn’t barged into my trailer yesterday like he owned the place.” Jensen glared, but he thought it was probably half-hearted at best. He was too tired for real annoyance, and anyway, it’s not like he couldn’t have told Misha to go fuck himself yesterday if he’d really wanted to.

Maybe.

“Oh hey, speaking of, how’s Gabriel doing?” Misha asked, his expression going soft and concerned. “He get settled in okay?”

“Peachy,” Jensen replied, rolling his eyes, irritated. _Why_ he was irritated was beyond him, except for the fact that if Misha cared that much, he could just swing by any time and see the guy for himself.

Misha tilted his head, the worried look growing. “It’s just, he didn’t seem to be handling things so well yesterday, which makes sense, all things considered. I was just hoping he was maybe getting a little more used to things today. I feel bad for him. It can’t be easy, and he hasn’t had a lot of time to acclimate yet.”

“If you care that much, you could just swing by and see the guy for yourself,” Jensen muttered, belatedly remembering that he really needed a brain-to-mouth filter. Jared wasn’t the only one who could bitchface when he wanted to, especially when playing Sam, and Misha was gathering a hell of a repertoire of those looks for himself.

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” was all Misha said, but it was enough. Misha didn’t use that tone unless he was working his way up the ‘pissed off’ ladder, and Jensen was fairly sure he deserved it.

“Sorry, man,” he said, sighing apologetically. “I’m just beat, taking it out on anything that moves right now.” He rolled his shoulders, grimacing as his muscles did their best not to cooperate. “I’m worried about him too. There’s homesick when your family lives an airplane ride away, and then there’s homesick when you think you’ll never talk to them again. I can’t even imagine. And honestly, I don’t know how he’s doing, but he seemed…” _At peace, somehow_. “…a little more relaxed when I checked in on him this morning. Sleeping like the dead, anyway.”

Misha nodded, pacified, and stepped forward, placing his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and digging in with practiced moves.

Jensen moaned, his head dropping forward. “You are a god among men,” he said.

“I’ve been told.” It was the carefully crafted arrogance – so typical of Misha even though the man himself was anything _but_ – that had Jensen huffing out a breath of laughter despite the exhaustion coursing through him and the fog settling over his brain.

They both left not too long after that, but when Jensen made the offer for Misha to come by for dinner tomorrow as repayment for the impromptu shoulder massage, Misha accepted it with a bright smile and twinkling eyes, and his good cheer, even despite his own obvious tiredness, was enough to make Jensen’s heart feel lighter as well.

He fell asleep on the ride home, barely even managing to mumble out a hello to his driver, and when he was woken a little while later, he couldn’t understand why he was upset that he hadn’t been under deep enough to dream.

~*~

Gabriel watched Misha watching Jared as Jared watched an oblivious Jensen. Frankly, it was all very disturbing, but then, he was surrounded by humans, and not just _any_ humans, but _actors_. It made sense that things would be strange, even to his standards.

The problem, really, was that Jared had no sense of subtlety, and okay, yes, Gabriel was grateful that he was on board with the whole let’s-do-our-damndest-to-stop-the-googly-eyed-madness plan…but the kid needed to learn the elegant tact that Gabriel himself had perfected over the last several hundred years.

Which…didn’t seem likely, given the circumstances.

It was just lucky that Jensen was entirely wrapped up in the new script he was reading, and thus had missed the byplay of glances entirely, so far. Because Jared had looked over the table at his best friend with that faintly amused expression a few times too often, and Misha, who wasn’t half so clueless or so distracted, hadn’t missed it _at all_. _His_ expression ranged from curiosity to open suspicion, and Gabriel was going to have a hell of a time getting him off the scent. If this was going to work – and, really, if it didn’t, Gabriel was going to be forced to turn in his Trickster badge immediately, because _come on_ – it wouldn’t do to be giving Misha and Jensen any hints that they should be watching out for an attack.

Gabriel took a slow bite of his pizza – pineapple, and whoever had thought of that was a _genius_ – and considered his options. He needed to distract Misha, take his mind off anything and everything related to Jared “Hey-Look-At-Me-I-Have-A-Secret!” Padalecki. Which wouldn’t be easy, because, as he’d already deduced, Misha wasn’t an idiot.

This was going to require a small sacrifice on his part, it seemed.

Gabriel’s movements were all carefully crafted nonchalance as he pulled the black feather from his pocket and began twirling it between his fingers. He’d never admit to it out loud, but holding it, feeling the traces of _angel_ that clung to the feather like static, was comforting in a way he wasn’t entirely familiar with. Like a…security blanket. He didn’t _need_ it, but having it, knowing it was there, made everything better. Brighter.

Bearable.

And, as expected, Misha’s eyes were drawn to it almost immediately. “What’s that?” the man asked inquisitively. _Gotcha_ , Gabriel thought.

He molded his expression into mild startlement at the question, glancing down at the feather as though surprised to see it in his hand. “Oh…” he said. “This? Nothin’, really. Just a…memento, of sorts.”

Misha was leaning forward against the table, trying to get a better look without asking outright to do so. Gabriel deftly twirled the feather, and it caught the light, reflecting a prismatic rainbow for a brief second that had Misha’s eyes widening. “I…is that a…”

“It’s just a feather,” Gabriel said calmly, but he grinned and winked at Misha.

“Just a…” Misha’s eyes were flicking between Gabriel’s own gaze and the feather, and he was reaching toward it like a man possessed. When he realized what he was doing, he jerked his hand back as though stung, and Gabriel’s eyes softened. “Is it one of…yours? Do you even…”

If they hadn’t had the attention of Jared and Jensen before, they certainly did now, Gabriel thought sardonically. All three gazes were riveted on him. Figured. “No, it’s not one of mine, but yes, it is an angel’s. As cliché as it sounds, we do have wings.” One of the few things humanity had gotten right about them, although if the renaissance artists of old had ever seen Castiel’s darkly feathered wings that were in one breath as black as night, and in another, made of nothing more than stormy shadows, Gabriel doubted they would have taken it very well.

“If it’s not yours, then…” Misha’s gaze pinned him.

“It’s Castiel’s,” Gabriel said, his jaw clenched. He was ready to admit that maybe he should have found something else to distract Misha with, because –

“Castiel’s? Really? You didn’t… How, if you didn’t have that with you when you came here?”

– because Misha was too damn curious – and too damn _smart_ – for his own good. He knew all the right questions to ask, all the ones Gabriel maybe wasn’t ready to answer even to _himself_ yet. “Yes, really,” he said, his voice maybe a little sharper than he intended, because Misha’s eyes widened and he visibly backed off. Gabriel sighed, his eyes sliding down to the innocent-looking reminder he held as he avoided the gazes of his audience. “I…prayed, the other night. Not such a big deal, I guess, for most angels. Or people. Or whoever. But…well, let’s just say it’s been a while.

“This was my Father’s answer.”

Misha’s eyes, when he finally had enough willpower to meet them again, were soft and without judgment, and Gabriel relaxed a little. He didn’t look over at Jared, too open right now to meet that hazel gaze, and he didn’t look over at Jensen, too unsure of the elder of his housemates to know what he would find in his eyes. Misha, in all of this, was apparently his safety net.

He couldn’t remember ever having one of those to rely on before, and it bothered him more than a little to find himself needing one now.

“May I?” Misha asked, holding a hand out tentatively. “I mean, I understand if –”

It bothered him, too, how easily he handed the precious – the _only_ – reminder of his family over to the man. But hand it over he did, and watched Misha suck in a breath when the cool feather touched his palm.

It was when Gabriel was no longer holding onto it that he finally looked over at one of the other men at the table. Not Jared, not yet, because he still wasn’t ready for Jared to see whatever might be in his eyes right now. But Jensen wasn’t watching the archangel anymore, and that made him safe to look at.

And had the added bonus of making Gabriel remember what he’d been trying to do in the first place, because that was _most definitely_ envy in that green-eyed gaze, sheer, powerful jealousy as Jensen watched Misha’s fingertips run gently over the feather, watched Misha take in the beauty of something so ethereal and angelic.

And now, grinning, Gabriel felt he was ready to face Jared, turned to give a subtle nod in Jensen’s direction to the younger man, and frowned in consternation when Jared wasn’t watching _any_ of them. Instead, Jared’s eyes were cast down, his face pensive as he stared at nothing more than his cold pizza.

Well, huh.

~*~

Misha was practically _glowing_ as he stroked the feather Gabriel had handed him, he and the archangel in a deep discussion about angelic rituals and practices and the way they viewed God and what Heaven was like. Things Jensen might have been interested in, but not right now. Not when he couldn’t see anything beyond the sparkle of Misha’s eyes, the way he lit up with every scrap of information Gabriel fed him.

The way those long fingers traced the curve of a feather that in another world, in another life, belonged to…some strange part of Misha.

It gave Jensen a headache, when he started thinking about alternate universes or parallel worlds or _whatever the fuck_ was going on here. Whatever it was, it didn’t make a damn bit of sense, except apparently when you considered that God was actually Gabriel’s Father, and…well, yeah, He _would_ have the power to cast his son into a strange plane of existence, wouldn’t he?

But then, did that make this world less real than the other one, than Gabriel’s? Was Castiel, of the shiny black feathers, more real than Misha? Gabriel had said something about this world being real, that that was why he couldn’t just snap himself away, but…

Jensen sighed, glanced across the table at Jared, and found his best friend watching Gabriel with an expression Jensen thought he recognized in a vague sort of way, if he really felt like pinpointing it.

He didn’t, though. Not at all.

Gabriel was animated when he talked, illustrating his points with hand movements and arm waving and expressions that lit up his face. All things that would capture Misha’s interest easily, because _he_ was like that, too. Even if the subject hadn’t been something the man would find so fascinating, he’d have been just as engaged in the conversation.

Jensen remembered a time when he’d been able to capture Misha’s attention so easily, back when they’d first started working together and were just getting to know each other.

Back when they were first becoming friends.

With a sigh, he stood and gathered the plates and pizza boxes, brought them out into the kitchen, and did his best to get a grip on… _whatever_ it was that was making him feel so damn dejected all of a sudden.

It had been a good day, up to this point. Shooting had gone well again, and Eric was over his annoyance with Jensen and Misha. Jared had spent a good portion of the day cracking jokes that had the whole crew laughing, and when they’d made it back to the house and seen Gabriel playing with the dogs in the living room, everyone had been in a good mood.

The pizza had been good, the beer had been even better, and it didn’t make sense why Jensen suddenly felt like his best friend had been taken away. Jared and Misha were both right through that doorway, and all he had to do was go out, sit down, and join in the conversation. He knew he’d be welcomed, but he couldn’t help feeling like something was holding him back.

Misha and Gabriel were connecting, in a strange way that neither had really had the opportunity to do with anyone else, especially not Gabriel. The poor guy was stuck here without any of his family, any of the people he _considered_ his family, and some part of him had clearly made Misha his alternative family for however long he was here for. And Misha had welcomed it, because that’s how Misha _was_. Misha would revel in having the opportunity to help someone like Gabriel, and would love the chance to learn about something so _out there_ at the same time. Of _course_ he’d connected to the wayward archangel.

And who was Jensen to get in the middle of that?

When he glanced down, his knuckles were white where he was gripping the counter, and no amount of telling himself he needed to relax, needed to figure out what the fuck was _wrong_ with him, helped.

~*~

Considering he hadn’t even gone into the evening with any sort of plans to actually _start_ the matchmaking scheme he and Jared were cooking up, Gabriel thought he’d done a fairly decent job of getting it started anyway. He just wished Jared had seemed more open to enjoying the unexpected success, but the kid had stayed quiet throughout the end of dinner and the conversation with dessert afterwards.

Gabriel had gone to a lot of trouble to walk down the street to the bakery, pick out a scrumptious looking cherry cheesecake, use a very subtle hint of mental manipulation to convince the sweet girl behind the register that he had, in fact, paid, and bring it back for the rest of their enjoyment.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t even have plans to pay the bakery back for it. Just as soon as he could conjure a few dollar bills without risk to his continued state of well-being. It wasn’t _his_ fault that messing with people’s minds was a bit less taxing than creating something out of thin air.

He sighed, twirling the feather between his fingers as he lay in the dark room, pondering what he could do to cheer Jared up, and what methods they could use next time to bring Jensen and Misha even closer.

The jealousy was good, and would maybe at least get Jensen thinking, if he could dig his head out of his ass long enough to _realize_ he was jealous.

Next, Gabriel thought, they had to focus on Misha.

~*~

“You ever think about what it would be like to fly?”

The question came seemingly out of the blue, right at the tail end of Jensen’s workweek, as he was pulling a water bottle out of the mini-fridge in his trailer. He turned to Misha with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t say it’s something that’s come up before, no.” Not since he was a kid, at least.

“Hmmm.” Misha looked thoughtful, leaning against the wall of the trailer with his arms crossed, gaze lowered to the ground. “I do, sometimes,” he said after a long moment. He glanced up and quirked a smile at Jensen. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Jensen waved a hand, his own lips twitching a little.

“It’s one of the reasons I took the role for Cas when it was offered.” At Jensen’s look, Misha laughed. “Don’t give me that look! I would have probably taken it even if it _had_ been a casting for a demon, you know? It was a good part. But when they told me the role was actually an angel…that was the clincher. I thought about all those old paintings you see in museums, powerful figures with majestic wings, and I though, ‘hell, even if it’s just pretending, I could have that. Just for a little while.’”

The sinking feeling in Jensen’s gut told him he suddenly knew where this was going, and he firmly told it to shut the hell up. Misha was here, talking to him, open and honest and more exposed than the man usually was, and what more could he want? He’d been worried his friendship with Misha would suffer because of Misha’s new connection with Gabriel, and clearly – _clearly_ – that wasn’t the case.

Really, what more did he want?

Misha continued. “But somewhere out there, there’s actually a real Castiel, a real _angel_ , with real wings, and he looks just like me, and he _can_ fly. It’s… Jesus, Jen, I can’t even explain the feeling of knowing that. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Jensen breathed out slowly. “Well, is it the angel thing specifically? Or the flying thing?” he asked, really just wanting to keep Misha talking.

Misha looked genuinely surprised by the question, and he thought about it for a long time before answering. “Both? Or neither. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I held that feather three days ago, Jen, and for a second, it felt like it was a part of me. I mean, talk about character bleed.” His eyes were bright. “In my head, it was easy to be able to say, ‘hey look, this here is an archangel, his name is Gabriel’, but holding that feather, _feeling_ the power that was in it? That’s the first time I think I really, actually believed it. And in that split-second, I…actually _felt_ like his…family.”

Jensen struggled to understand past the bleak, heavy feeling in his chest. “So…you actually really felt like Castiel?” Because that could bring up some interesting questions about this parallel dimension crap, too.

“No, not…” Misha reached for the words, clearly struggling to explain as much as Jensen was to understand. “It wasn’t _really_ character-bleed, I mean, not in the way you’re thinking. I still felt like _me_ , and if anyone knows what Castiel should feel like, it’d be me, right? But there was this… _connection_ to Gabriel, and it was really like we were…family. Brothers. But not in the sense that I _became_ Cas… You know?”

Jensen didn’t, not in the least. But he was holding tight to the word _brothers_ , because that meant something. “You and Gabriel did connect pretty fast,” he said, softly, trying to keep his feelings about it to himself and probably only partly succeeding. “Even before any _feather_ was involved. I dunno, Mish, everything about this is pretty fucking weird, if you ask me. The way things connect to his world? It doesn’t always make sense, but…”

“…but then it does,” Misha finished, his gaze sharp.

Jensen nodded, thoughtful. “Maybe you always dreamed about flying because…”

“…because some other version of me really _was_.”

~*~

With every day that passed, Gabriel felt his grace growing just that little bit stronger. He still couldn’t create things from nothing the way he could at full strength, but he’d finally managed a sufficiently delectable bar of chocolate, and sweet _Father_ , it was almost the best chocolate he’d ever had, just because it had been so damn long.

He didn’t tire as easily, either, though he still slept. Now, though, it was more because he chose to rather than because he had to. He didn’t dream – no angel did – but there was peace in the stillness of sleep. And he enjoyed waking up with Jared’s two dogs curled up against him. Seriously, there was almost nothing on earth better than a dog.

Not even chocolate.

His wings were still locked tight within his vessel, but he could feel them twitch when he was restless, and he was hoping he’d be able to release them soon. He needed to lose himself in flight, longed to stretch those muscles that had gone unused for far too long.

For now, though, he just needed to _move_ , get away from the stifling feel the house was taking on. He’d been shut up in here for _ages_ , and it wasn’t a good state for an angel, feeling trapped. Jensen and Jared were both working, but he knew from listening to them that Misha had the day off today, and it hadn’t sound like he had any plans other than staying in and relaxing.

Surely he wouldn’t mind staying in and relaxing with company?

And maybe, if he played his cards right, Gabriel could start planting those vitally important seeds in his mind. Seeds about Jensen, and the feelings the man was clearly harboring for him…

Seriously, for someone who was so obviously in-tune with the world at large and himself specifically, Misha Collins could be pretty clueless. It was enough to make a poor archangel want to tear his hair out and scream.

It was just lucky that Gabriel had more self-control than your average archangel.

Sometimes, anyway.

He was knowledgeable enough about basic human etiquette to remember to leave a note in case one of the dynamic duo he was currently living with got back earlier than expected, and then he was out the door, gratefully breathing in the fresh air as he took off down the street, hands in his pockets, feeling almost something like content, like he could really breathe for the first time since waking up in a field in an unfamiliar world.

Misha’s apartment was farther than most humans, he assumed, would be willing to walk. Jensen and Jared and Misha, at least, always seemed inclined to drive everywhere, and that was cool…Gabriel could appreciate the convenience of a fast car, especially if there was a decent sound system attached…but when he didn’t fly, or just snap himself from one place to another, he sometimes… _liked_ to walk. Sue him.

The point was, it was a fairly long walk, but not one Gabriel minded. In fact, when he took the stairs in the building two at a time and finally stopped at the door to the apartment, he was grinning wider than Misha had probably ever seen.

And the shocked look that crossed the human’s face was _utterly_ worth it.

“Gabriel?” Misha asked, looking rumpled in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. “Something wrong?”

“Nope. Just bored.”

“Bored.” Misha stared. “Of course.” He stepped back finally, shaking his head, lips twitching up into a half-smile. “Might as well come in, then. How’d you get here?”

Gabriel batted his eyelashes. “If I say I flew, will you act all impressed and buy me dinner?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Misha replied promptly, laughing.

“Well, damn, you sure know how to hurt an angel’s feelings, Collins,” Gabriel said with a pout. Father, why was it so _easy_ with this man? It wasn’t _fair_.

Misha nudged him with a shoulder before plopping back down on his couch and tossing the television remote to Gabriel. “Whatever you say, bro.”

He froze half a second before Gabriel did.

 _Ah_. Well, that might explain something.

“We should maybe talk about this.”

~*~

_Hey Wonder Twins,_

Gone to Misha’s for a bit. Don’t wait up. *smooch*

-G

Jensen didn’t hit anything. He didn’t scream, he didn’t throw something, and he certainly didn’t _pout_.

He also very carefully didn’t pay attention to the raised eyebrow Jared gave him, nor did he respond to the smirk that crossed his friend’s face.

And he also didn’t pick up his phone to call Misha and find out what the hell was going on.

But _fuck_ if he didn’t want to do all of those things.

~*~

Gabriel stared at Misha, and Misha stared back at Gabriel, and the archangel released a long breath. “Ever since the feather, huh?”

Misha sat back, sighing. “To be fair, a lot of it was there before that. It just…sharpened it.” He smiled, almost imperceptibly, eyes glinting. “Well, I always wondered what it would be like having more siblings.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “You’re disturbingly calm about this, you know. Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” Misha asked with a laugh. “That I’m…what…turning into Cas?” He shook his head. “Gabriel, I know Castiel better than just about anyone, probably even better than you. I don’t know if he’s the way he is because that’s how I created him, or if I was picking up on something I didn’t even understand at the time, and I guess it doesn’t even really matter anymore. The point is, I know Cas, and I’m not him. I’m not _becoming_ him. And hell, I’m _certainly_ not turning into an angel. Although _wow_ , would that be cool or what?” He grinned at that, then sobered a little at Gabriel’s dry look.

“But you’re not worried that what you’re feeling is all…” Gabriel flapped a hand to get his point across.

“It is what it is,” Misha replied with a shrug. “For whatever reason, it’s there, and I’m not going to bother _fighting_ it. It’s not hurting anyone, it’s not _changing_ me, and I…kind of like it. I have a brother, but we haven’t always been particularly close, and this is…different. Frankly, it’s _nice_. I’m enjoying the experience. And you can’t tell me you haven’t felt it.”

No. No, he really couldn’t, could he?

He leaned back in his chair, feeling a little shell-shocked and a lot confused and wondering what had happened to the plan he’d come here hoping to put into play.

Because this? Definitely hadn’t factored into any plan.

~*~

He wasn’t waiting up, because that would have been ridiculous and pathetic. He wasn’t watching the front door while pretending to watch the television, waiting for the archangel to come strolling back inside so that he could stop…

Stop what?

Worrying? _Wondering?_ God, why did he _care_ so much what Gabriel and Misha were up to? Why did it _matter?_

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he leaned his head back against the couch. When he felt Jared drop down beside him, he made another irritated sound. “Go away.”

“Jen, it’s two a.m., and we both have to be up at a really godforsaken hour in the morning. What are you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, glancing blearily at the muted television. Rocky and Bullwinkle were about to thwart a scheming Boris and Natasha.

“Hmm.” Jared poked him hard in the shoulder. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“ _Oww_ , what the fuck was that for?”

“For being an idiot.” Jared shook his head at him, and Jensen glared. “You can stop worrying, you know. They’re not together. They’re not _getting_ together. They’re friends, just like you and me.”

“Who said I was worried?” The slip, Jensen realized half a second later, was in not pretending he didn’t know who Jared was talking about, and by the knowing glint in Jared’s eye, he hadn’t missed it. _Fuck_. “I’m not,” he muttered. “Why would I be?”

“You tell me, just as soon as you’re willing to answer that question to yourself.” Jared’s hand gripped his shoulder, squeezed tightly. Jensen hated himself a little for finding comfort in it. “For what it’s worth, I thought maybe there was something there too, at first. But seriously, dude. They’re just friends.” There was a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth, something secret that Jensen didn’t really trust. “Now get the fuck to bed or I’m going to make sure the director runs you ragged tomorrow.”

He’d do it, too. Evil bastard. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, standing. He paused before heading toward his room, glanced back over to Jared. “Thanks, Jare.”

“Anytime.”

~*~

Gabriel could admit he was too curious for his own good, especially when he was bored. And he was _really_ bored when he started rummaging through the house, looking for something interesting to entertain him.

The DVDs were shoved in the back of the movie cabinet, and he would have missed them entirely if not for the way Jared’s face was peering at him from the front.

No, not Jared. _Sam_.

It was a bad idea, and he knew it. He wasn’t a masochist, didn’t find any comfort in relieving harsh, painful, _bitter_ memories. He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough to know that almost anything he saw was going to hurt.

It didn’t stop him from perusing episode titles and descriptions until he came upon a promising-looking starting place.

_Tall Tales._

He popped it in with a feeling that was almost like foreboding, and settled back on the couch with a carefully conjured soda, which, despite his best efforts, was still just this side of flat, and not nearly sweet enough. He promised himself he’d just walk to the refrigerator next time.

There was relief in seeing the differences in settings… _Supernatural_ filmed in one place, one city, and was limited to the sets they could create _in_ that place. The details were accurate, but the changes made all the differences, stopped him from getting lost in the memories as the episode played out, even as he startled at the dead-on dialogue and the way so many of the people looked so much the same.

Gabriel also had to give props where they were due…that Richard guy was pretty good. He wondered in a vague sort of way if their connection was anything like Misha’s to Castiel, wondered if it had been severed the moment Gabriel had died and been dropped like a pile of dirty laundry in this world. He didn’t really have any inclination toward meeting him face-to-face…but on the other hand, it could be kind of fun.

Something to think about, maybe, someday.

Against his better judgment, Gabriel spent most of the afternoon watching random episodes from the rest of season two and some of season three. He had just steeled himself and started watching the end of _Mystery Spot_ when a voice said, very close to his ear, “You have different eyes.”

He jumped, made a startled noise that he’d never, _ever_ admit to, feeling too much like the kid that had been caught in the cookie jar, and glared at Jared. “ _Damn_ it!” he yelled. “Don’t _do_ that!”

Hell, when was the last time someone had actually been _able_ to sneak up on him?

Jared grinned, the unrepentant bastard, and tilted his head to stare at Gabriel. “Richard has hazel eyes, more woodsy. Yours are amber-tinted, more like honey-colored. And they glow in the right light. I never really noticed before…” There was something deep and contemplative in his eyes, something Gabriel couldn’t even begin to dissect before Jared was clearing his throat and giving the archangel a wink.

Gabriel shifted, glancing at the television, trying not to read too much into that look as he re-focused on the actors on the screen. Jared was right, it was one of the only differences he could detect between Richard and himself, as far as appearance went. He was surprised the kid had noticed at all.

“What are you doing watching this, anyway?” Jared asked, picking up the DVD cover. “I’d have thought it would be too…” He trailed off, and Gabriel’s lips twisted.

“Morbid curiosity? And I was bored.”

Jared shot a look at the screen, something strange in his eyes as he watched Sam begging, pleading for his brother’s life. He flipped it off without a word. “C’mon, let’s take Harley and Sadie to the park. Jensen’ll be back late tonight, so we can grab dinner on the way home.”

And really, there was nothing Gabriel wanted to do more in that moment. He grabbed a leash and followed Jared out the front door.

~*~

“Okay, _what?_ ” Misha asked, looking grumpy as he crossed his arms and stared at Jensen. The effect was only heightened by the fact that the man was still in costume, and that was a full-on Castiel glare Jensen was getting right now.

He swallowed. “What do you mean, what?”

“Oh come on, Jen. You’ve been staring at me since we got in this morning. What, do I have something in my teeth? A wart on my nose? A kick-me sign on my back? _What?_ ”

Jensen flushed. “No, nothing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I just…I’m just spacey today, that’s all.”

Misha looked like he believed him about as much as he believed that pigs could fly and fangirls were always right. Which was to say, not at all. “Look,” Misha said. “We’ve got at least another two hours on set, and then I’d _like_ to get home, take a shower, and sleep. I can’t do those things if you’re not gonna get it together. Do you want to talk? Would that help?”

“No!” Jensen said, too loudly. Misha arched an eyebrow at him, and he swallowed again. “Look, really, it’s nothing. I just didn’t sleep well, and it’s catching up. My own fault.”

The eyebrow rose higher. “And you didn’t sleep well _because?_ ”

Jensen sighed. “No reason,” he said. “I don’t even know, really.”

Misha watched him for a few moments, then shrugged. “All right, whatever,” he said, turning to get back on set before the director called them over. “C’mon, let’s get this wrapped already. My shower is beckoning.”

“Hey Mish…” Jensen called before he could stop himself. Misha turned back with an inquisitive frown. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Just, last night… Is there something…there…going on with you and…” He didn’t say the name, too conscious of the people wandering back and forth across the lot.

Misha blinked a few times, then laughed outright, the sound rich and warm and making Jensen flush all over again. “Aww, Jen, I didn’t know you cared!” He grinned widely. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” And with a wink, he turned and walked away, leaving Jensen gaping after him.

Oh…

Oh Jesus _fuck_.

The asshole didn’t even realize he’d just turned Jensen’s world upside down on its axis, and he hadn’t even had the courtesy to answer the damn question.

 _Fuck_ , he thought again, viciously.

~*~

“Tell me again why we can’t just lock them in a closet?” Jared asked with a huff, tugging on Harley’s leash to stop him from chasing a chipmunk.

“Because that wouldn’t be subtle, and we’re going for subtle here,” Gabriel replied promptly, reaching down to pet Sadie, who was every dog-walker’s dream. “They have to think it’s their idea, or they’ll reject it on principle. Clearly, they’re both a little bit gun-shy when it comes to the relationship thing.”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Jared stared at him. “Your character never struck me as the type to really… _do_ relationships.”

Gabriel shrugged, amused in spite of himself at being called a character. He’d probably never get used to that, but coming from Jared, it was a little bit adorable for some reason. “Not in a long time, but hey, there was Kali back in the day.” He grinned, waggled his eyebrows. “It may have been a while, but I’ve still got the moves.”

“Uh huh,” Jared said, snorting. “Well then, love guru, what do we do next?”

Grinning wickedly, Gabriel outlined his next plan of attack.

~*~

Jensen was already reclining on the couch with his third beer, wishing he had something a hell of a lot stronger, when Jared and Gabriel got home with the dogs. He glanced up, sketched a wave, and downed the rest of the bottle in one go, eyes trained morosely on the TV.

“Well that looks healthy,” Gabriel observed. Jensen gave him the finger without even bothering to look, and the archangel laughed. “I’d ask to join you, but I think there’s only enough room for one in this angst-fest. I’ll leave you boys to it.”

Jensen watched from the corner of his eye as Gabriel went into his room and shut the door firmly. He knew he wouldn’t be lucky enough to get rid of Jared half so easily, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Jesus, the day couldn’t have been _that_ bad after I left,” Jared said, taking a seat on the chair opposite Jensen.

“Bad enough,” the older man sighed. “And no, I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Jared shrugged easily. “Your call. Listen, I know you’re probably not in the mood to talk right now, judging by the looks of things, but I was thinking maybe we could all go out for dinner or something tomorrow. Gabriel hasn’t had the chance to get out of the house much, and even though I’ll be filming later than you, I should make it off the set early enough for a late meal.”

Jensen glanced up, frowning as he considered. “Misha too?” he asked, half fearful, half hopeful. God. _God_ , how had he been such an idiot this whole time?

“Well, yeah, I’d assumed so,” Jared replied, blinking. “Unless he has something else going on. I planned on calling him next, unless you’d rather I didn’t.”

And if he said no, Jared was sure to wonder why, and that would open up a whole can of worms Jensen wasn’t willing to face with anyone but himself right now. “No, it’s cool, go ahead. It’ll be nice to get out of here for a change, besides for work. Been a while.”

“S’what I thought,” Jared said with a grin, jumping up and grabbing for his phone. “Cool. Well, don’t drown your sorrows too late, huh? Got another early day tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jensen mumbled, but he sighed and stopped himself from going to grab another beer.

~*~

Gabriel took in his surroundings with a critical eye and nodded to himself. Yep, this would do nicely. Not _too_ intimate, but a nice enough place. Small, Italian, it didn’t _scream_ “date”, but it definitely implied it could be used as such. Friendly wait staff, clean tables, nice music… This was good. This was very good.

Jensen was sipping his wine and grinning at Misha as the older man waved his hands around wildly, detailing some prank Jared had dared to play on him after Jensen had left the set. They weren’t paying any attention at all to Gabriel, and that was good too.

Now all Gabriel needed was his exit cue, and that should be coming along any…moment… _now_.

Jensen’s phone buzzed on the table, and both Jensen and Misha regarded it with curiosity. Jared’s name flashed across the screen. Gabriel quickly hid his grin.

Jensen flipped the phone open. “What’s up?” There was a moment of silence while he listened to whatever Jared was saying on the other end. Gabriel observed his expression as it went first to annoyed, then to concerned, then to resigned. “All right, man, no problem,” he finally said. “Listen, call if there are any problems, okay? It’s not like we’re that far away.” Another pause. “All right. See you later.”

The actor sighed as he snapped the phone closed, and Misha’s head tilted. “Something wrong?” he asked Jensen.

“Nah, at least, I don’t think so. Jared just got home, said that Sadie’s not feeling good. He’s gonna hang there and keep an eye on her. He doesn’t think it’s serious, but he doesn’t want to take chances.”

Misha nodded. “I don’t blame him, he dotes on those dogs.” He grinned. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still have a fun night out, right?”

The smile seemed to be tugged unwillingly from Jensen, but it was there all the same. Gabriel inwardly cheered at seeing it, even as he carefully kept his face schooled into a frown as he glanced toward the door of the restaurant. He fidgeted, just a little, just enough for authenticity.

And these people claimed _they_ were the actors.

“Gabriel? You okay?” Misha nudged the archangel’s leg with his foot, and Gabriel jerked, like he’d been surprised out of his thoughts.

“What? Yeah, of course,” he said quickly, glancing at the door again. “I just…” He frowned harder, scrunched his eyebrows into a bundle of worried lines. “Is Jared really sure Sadie’s okay?”

Jensen looked concerned for _Gabriel_ now, but that was okay, Gabriel didn’t mind all that much. “Yeah, you know he’d never take a chance if there was something really wrong,” Jensen assured him. “You really love those guys, huh?”

Gabriel shrugged, looking down at the table, all but biting his lip as he played the role of anxious, worried doggie-godfather. “Dogs are special,” was all he said. He looked toward the door again.

“Well, we can always just go back to the house,” Misha offered. “Make sure everything’s kosher there, maybe relax with a movie and some alcohol.”

“What? No way!” Gabriel said, looking suitably shocked at the very idea. “No, I just…I dunno, maybe I could go? You guys wouldn’t mind, right? At least someone can keep Jared company anyway, since he’s probably more worried than I am.”

For a second, Jensen looked like he’d choked on the sip of water he’d just taken, but Gabriel noted how quickly he was able to compose himself. No matter. It had been there, and Gabriel had seen it.

Things were looking very good indeed.

Misha was already nodding before he even looked at Jensen. “Yeah, no, that’s fine by me. I understand. Hey Bright Eyes, you don’t mind getting stuck with little old me, right?”

Jensen glared, but it lacked the force Gabriel thought it might have three days ago. He also gave Misha silent props for the nickname he hadn’t heard before. It was cute, Gabriel liked it.

Especially the way it made Jensen flush just a little bit, even as he shrugged and shook his head.

“Awesome.” Misha grinned back at Gabriel. “You know how to drive?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, a silent, _What are you, stupid?_ He’d been around long enough to have picked up the important things, and a good car and the knowledge to make it go were _definitely_ important.

Misha rolled his eyes, tossed him a set of keys. “You can take my car then, Jen can drive me back to pick it up later.”

Gabriel smothered his snicker at the look on Jensen’s face as he pocketed the keys and stood. “Thanks. And hey, thanks for understanding. If I stay, I’ll just bum you guys out with my worrying.” He pouted a little for effect.

When he left the restaurant, he left while whistling cheerfully, the words that went along with the tune running through his head.

_Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match. Find me a find. Catch me a catch…_

~*~

For all that it had been easy and painless earlier, sitting here with Misha and talking like they always had before, now it was equal amounts awkward and quiet, and Jensen hated it.

He really, _really_ fucking hated it.

He knew it was entirely his fault by the way Misha’s eyes kept sliding to him, mouth tilted down in a worried frown, and by the way the other man’s shoulders were hunched like he was trying to find a way to make it better, and failing.

Because he _had_ tried. Misha had tried to start a dozen conversations since Gabriel had left, and all of them had died screamingly silent, agonizing deaths when Jensen could only stare down at his pasta and shrug or grunt like he was paying attention.

He wasn’t, by the way. Paying attention. Because how could he, when Misha was sitting across from him, looking _damn_ fucking good, completely unaware of the way Jensen’s heart was pounding every time those blue eyes settled on him for even half a moment? The way his mouth went dry every time Misha’s foot accidentally brushed his leg where it was stretched out underneath the table? The way –

Misha sighed loudly, startling Jensen from his thoughts. “That’s it,” he declared, shoving back from the table. “Either you’re more worried about Sadie and Jared then you let on, or you’re just in a bad mood. Either way, I’m fixing it.” He stood, dug a wad of cash from his wallet that he dropped on the table without even counting, and grabbed Jensen’s hand, pulling him up as well.

He didn’t let go until they were in the parking lot, and as Jensen fumbled for his keys, he couldn’t stop feeling like his skin was tingling.

God, he was _pathetic_. He wasn’t a thirteen-year-old _girl_ , for the love of God, so why did he keep acting like it!

It was Misha’s fault, for ever saying _that word_ , and clueing Jensen in to his own epic stupidity. He’d been _happy_ in his ignorance, damn it! “Where are we going, anyway?” he mumbled, finally getting his key to slot correctly into the car door. They climbed in, and Misha grinned at him, his eyes sparkling.

“You’ll see. Just follow my directions.”

This couldn’t end well. Jensen knew it, but even knowing it didn’t stop him from starting the car and pulling out where Misha told him to. Didn’t stop him from following each carefully given direction, until they were half an hour from anything familiar and the gas meter was starting to run low on his SUV. Didn’t stop him from waiting with baited breath to find out what Misha had in store, because if there was one thing Misha never was, it was boring. The guy always had _something_ up his sleeve.

This time, it turned out to be…

“Ice cream?” Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow as they pulled up outside a ramshackle-looking stand in the middle of nowhere. There were a few other cars in the tiny dirt-packed parking lot, and outside the window, he saw a couple of kids squabbling with each other over flavors.

“Not just any ice cream,” Misha replied sagely. “This is _sacred_ ice cream. Once you’ve had it, you’ll never go back.”

Jensen stared, nodding slowly. “Uh huh…”

“I’ll even prove it.” Misha grinned, his whole face radiating challenge. Like Jensen could resist that even _before_ his co-worker continued. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks that you can’t eat a whole ice cream cone from this place without making at least _one_ orgasmic sound.”

Snorting, Jensen rolled his eyes. “Seriously? That’s it? This is the easiest twenty I’ll ever make, dude.”

Misha’s expression didn’t change, except that his smile grew wider by increments. “Does that mean you’re accepting the challenge that’s been set before you?”

Jensen’s answering grin was shark-like. “Bring it on.”

~*~

Jared threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and rich and doing all kinds of funny things to Gabriel as the archangel sat beside him on the front steps. Sadie and Harley were playing in the yard, tackling each other and rolling around on the ground like the puppies they hadn’t been in years, and Gabriel was abruptly startled to realize he was… _content_.

And then he was just terrified.

“I can’t believe that was your idea of _subtle_ ,” Jared said, still chuckling as he popped the cap off his beer. “I mean, _really?_ ”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Gabriel grinned, shoving the uncomfortable feelings of comfort away. He was an angel on a mission right now, it wouldn’t do to forget that. And there was absolutely _no_ reason to let himself get sidetracked into _angsting_ about it.

After…

After, he’d worry about what happened _after_.

Jared was shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I really don’t get how they can be so blind about all of this. Neither of them are idiots, you know, despite current evidence to the contrary.”

Gabriel shrugged lightly. “I’ve seen love do crazier things than that, kid.” _I watched an angel fall from grace for love. I watched a human battle every kind of demon known to God and man for it. And neither of them ever realized…_

It was funny, how much he could miss the people who, were he around to see them, he couldn’t even be sure would want to see _him_.

_Dean and Cas, I hope you guys are somewhere taking notes on this whole thing. You could use the pointers._

He took a long pull from his can of soda and leaned, ever so slightly, into Jared’s warmth.

~*~

“Oh my _God_ ,” Jensen moaned, not the first time. He’d long since handed a crisp new twenty over to Misha, and hadn’t even complained about it, because god _damn_ this was incredible ice cream. Smooth and rich and creamy, flavors bursting over his tongue, chocolate that was _beyond_ chocolate and, fuck, of all things, _blueberry_ swirled in for that extra flavor and seriously, _seriously_ , this was Heaven right here. “How did you _find_ this place?”

Misha grinned, licking at his own mint-and-orange-flavored cone. “Pure chance and happenstance. Wrong place at the right time, and all that. I take it you’re enjoying it, then?” His eyes said he already knew that Jensen was loving it, just like Misha had known he would, despite the incredulous look Jensen had given him upon first hearing the order.

Jensen made another small noise in his throat, closing his eyes on a blissful wave of taste sensation. When he opened them again a second later, he turned just quickly enough to catch Misha staring at him, but the older man looked away before he could read whatever was on his face. He shrugged it off, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Jesus, he’d been making practically pornographic sounds for the past fifteen minutes, God only knew what Misha was thinking.

“So,” Misha said after a moment. “Feeling better?”

Ducking his head, Jensen nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for…all of this.” He quirked a tiny smile. “Been a long couple of days, I think I really needed this.”

“Anytime,” Misha said, his voice soft. Jensen glanced over, saw him blink a couple of times. “Just, you know, sorry Jared and Gabriel couldn’t be here.” His smile widened. “I think Gabriel might have actually _had_ an orgasm.”

It should have made Jensen laugh, he should have smirked and agreed and made fun of the wayward archangel, just to keep the mood light. The old Jensen, the _normal_ Jensen…that’s what he would have done. But this Jensen was too close, too possessive…too damn _jealous_ to want to think of Gabriel and orgasms and Misha within the same _book_ , let alone the same _sentence_. No matter what the context. So there was no stopping the grimace that crossed his face.

Nor was there any stopping Misha from noticing it, because for the most part, Misha saw _everything_. A crease appeared between his brows, and he put a hand on Jensen’s arm, forcing Jensen to look him in the eye. “Hey, seriously, what’s wrong? I didn’t think you had any problems with Gabriel?”

“I didn’t. I _don’t_ ,” Jensen said firmly. Because, hell, despite everything, he still liked the guy. Archangel. _Whatever_. It wasn’t Gabriel’s _fault_ , and…fuck, if he could make Misha happy… “I just…worry. What if he leaves, Mish?”

Misha’s brow furrowed even more. “Well, he’ll miss out on the ice cream, but…” His eyes widened, something dawning on him. “Oh. _Oh_. Oh, hell, Jen. Are you worried about _me?_ ” And now there was amusement dancing in those lapis depths. Jensen tried to turn away, but Misha wouldn’t have it, digging his fingers in and holding Jensen’s gaze. “Look, when you asked earlier…I didn’t think you were _serious_. Jensen, there’s nothing going on between me and Gabriel.”

Jensen searched his eyes, feeling the first stirrings of relief.

“Well, nothing quite like that, anyway.”

Relief plummeted back to despair. “What do you mean?”

Misha took a thoughtful bite of his ice cream, staring off at something in the distance. “It’s hard to explain, but he’s…” He released a breath. “He’s my brother, in every way that counts. When I’m around him, he feels like family. Hell if either of us can explain it, but whatever connection is between us, that’s it.”

Jensen blinked. Blinked again. _Oh_. “Oh. Well, that’s…different.”

“You could say that,” Misha laughed. “If he leaves, I’ll miss him, of course I will. I’ll miss him a hell of a lot, at this point. I’d place bets on Jared missing him a pretty fair amount as well. And you. For such a little guy, he’s got a lot of presence. And he squeezed his way into our lives pretty easily, you know? So yeah, I’d miss him. But I’d also have faith that he was happy, wherever he was. And it wouldn’t break my heart.” He winked. “So you can stop worrying so much, all right?”

He ignored the way his heart was fluttering like a caged bird, ignored the way Misha’s smile made his stomach clench. All he could do was nod and sit back to enjoy the rest of his ice cream.

After that, conversation flowed as easily between them as it ever had, and Jensen allowed himself to relax. He boxed up his newly discovered feelings and buried them as deep as he could, where they wouldn’t get in the way and threaten to upend the friendship he shared with Misha again. Because he wasn’t willing to allow that. Whatever he felt or didn’t feel, Misha was his friend, and he couldn’t lose that.

 _Refused_ to lose that.

It would be a while before he dared to lift the lid and examine those feelings again.

~*~

“ _Gabriel!_ ”

Jared hadn’t often sounded angry in the four months Gabriel had been here, but oh yeah, he sounded downright _pissed_ right now, on this particularly crisp late autumn morning. Which was why Gabriel was hiding as far away as he could.

On the roof.

“ _Gabriel, you goddamned sonofabitch archangel, where are you?_ ”

It was a good thing they didn’t have any neighbors close by, because that would’ve been sure to get a few raised eyebrows. Gabriel couldn’t help the snigger. Hiding or not, he was still enjoying Jared’s little tirade. It _was_ pretty funny, considering…

“ _Gabriel! FIX THIS!_ ”

From his vantage point, he watched Jared storm out onto the front lawn, and the actor was trailed by Harley and Sadie. Which, unfortunately, set off another bout of laughter. Which Jared heard.

His eyes shot up, twin laser-beams of anger slicing their way toward Gabriel, who smiled sheepishly and waved. Sadie barked up at him happily.

The _dogs_ didn’t care about their current predicament, clearly. Why should Jared?

“ _Fix it!_ ” his sasquatch-sized housemate shouted.

“Ah…no can do, I’m afraid!” he called back. What, did Jared think he hadn’t _tried_? Okay, granted, it was pretty funny…but Gabriel valued his newly God-given life, thank you very much. He wouldn’t have risked it, given a choice. He’d just been practicing, seeing how far he could stretch his powers, now that he’d been here a while, and by the time he’d been too tired to continue…

“ _PINK! They’re PINK, Gabriel! What the fuck?_ ”

Harley barked and jumped up on his master, his bright pink fur clashing horribly with Jared’s black sweatpants and t-shirt, and leaving trails of hot-pink fur everywhere that even from where he was sitting, Gabriel had no trouble spotting. He snorted again, masking the sound quickly lest Jared hear it. “It’ll wear off, I promise!” He hoped.

Jared glared for a long moment before stomping back inside.

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief.

From behind him, a window slid open, and he turned to grin at Jensen. “Sorry, did we wake you?”

“You probably woke _Mars_ ,” the actor grumbled, but he was leaning on the windowsill and trying unsuccessfully to smother his own laughter. “I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you. That? Was _epic_.”

Yeah. It really was. Gabriel wasn’t gonna deny it. He preened a little, even as he said, “I’ll try to have it fixed before you guys get home.”

Almost on cue, Misha’s car pulled up, and the man himself hopped out, shielding his eyes as he caught sight of Gabriel and waved. Gabriel tossed off a salute, smirked when Jensen made a quick exit from the window to go downstairs to greet the newcomer.

They were still dancing around each other to the point of driving Gabriel and Jared up a wall. But damn it, they were _cute_. And he was having fun, watching his little brother charm Jensen without even realizing it.

It was also easier now, thinking of Misha as his little brother. The months since Misha’s confession had passed quickly, but had given them time to learn the ins and outs of the strange connection they shared, and for all intents and purposes, Misha _was_ his brother.

It didn’t make sense. But somehow it _worked_.

Besides, he’d realized a long time ago that the best things about life were the things that didn’t make sense. The things that defied explanation and reason and logic. That was good enough for him.

Gabriel was happier here after four months then he could remember being in millennia.

And it was starting not to scare him.

~*~

Misha strolled into the kitchen and stole a piece of bacon off Jared’s plate with all the ease and comfort of someone who’d been doing it every day for ages.

Which, in point of fact, Misha had been.

Sometime between Gabriel falling from the sky and now, it had just become a habit for Misha to be here, whenever he felt like it. Sometimes he got there early enough to have breakfast and ride with Jensen and Jared into work. Sometimes he showed up after filming, tense and edgy and just needing a couch to crash on that wasn’t in a too-quiet, empty apartment. Other times, he came in the middle of a weekend, just stopping in long enough to coax Gabriel out to go hiking with him to places he thought the archangel would enjoy.

Without actually living there, Misha was as much a part of the crazy household as Jensen and Jared themselves were. And they’d all long since stopped wondering about Gabriel leaving. Gabriel knew he was welcome here for as long as he wanted or needed, and he seemed comfortable enough with the arrangement.

“Hey,” Misha said, hoisting himself up onto a counter, munching on a piece of toast he’d snagged from the toaster. Jensen rolled his eyes and went to make himself another.

“Hey, yourself. You know, you _could_ make your own food,” Jared pointed out with a good-natured scowl.

“What’s the fun in that?” Misha asked, wide-eyed and guileless, making Jensen snort. Misha grinned and winked at him. “So, guys. It’s November seventh. I need to know…what’s everyone doing for Thanksgiving this year?”

Gabriel came downstairs at that moment, stopping short in the entryway at Misha’s question. Jensen didn’t miss the way his shoulders hunched just slightly, or the way his eyes dimmed, barely noticeable. Judging by the way Jared was practically _itching_ to jump out of his seat and go over there, it was clear he hadn’t missed it either.

Jensen answered smoothly, “We figured we’d just stay here this year, do something quiet.” He and Jared had discussed no such thing, but Jared’s quick, relieved smile at him really only proved it wasn’t even necessary. “You interested?” he asked Misha.

Misha glanced at Gabriel, too quickly for the archangel to notice.

Yeah, Thanksgiving was a time for family.

“Of course I’m in,” Misha grinned, bright blue eyes lighting on Jensen again.

“Good, you get to be in charge of the alcohol,” Jensen said with a smirk. “Something better than just beer. And Gabriel, you better get cracking on those conjuring skills of yours. I expect desserts of epic proportions.”

Gabriel met his eyes, his gaze too sharp to allow Jensen to believe Gabriel had missed anything that had just happened. But his smile was real, and his eyes were bright, and he ducked his head in acknowledgement. “Can do, boss,” he replied.

“Good,” Misha said decisively, glancing at his watch. “And now that that’s sorted, work beckons.”

Jensen and Jared both groaned, and Gabriel smirked.

“And while we’re on our way to work, does someone want to explain to me why the dogs are pink?”

Jensen practically died laughing as Jared abruptly froze from where he’d just stood up, and then as he turned on his heel and dove for Gabriel, murder in his eyes.

~*~

Jared was a genius. How he’d somehow managed to make it that Sadie was curled up in one chair, sleeping peacefully, while he reclined in another, leaving only the couch free for Jensen and Misha, was beyond Gabriel. For all that Misha was here _all the time_ , Gabriel couldn’t think of a single instance where he and Jensen had ended up sharing the couch. Jensen was too careful, too _hesitant_.

How was Gabriel supposed to resist?

Well, judging by Jared’s glances, he wasn’t, that was the point. That was cool with him. He was getting more used to stretching his powers now, seeing what he could accomplish with the currents of grace he’d been able to recover. And he’d been carefully conserving energy for the last two days, since he’d finally managed to change the dogs back to their usual, more natural coloring.

Secretly, he had to admit that he missed the pink. He thought Harley did, too, poor thing.

The point, though, was that he had plenty of mojo right now to be able to wrap around Misha and Jensen, probing deeply enough into their subconscious that he was willing them into sleep before their expressions ever even flickered.

Slowly…slowly…they wouldn’t be expecting it, but it wouldn’t do to have them wondering later, either.

He breathed out, watched as Jensen slumped, his head resting on Misha’s shoulder as Misha relaxed deeper and deeper into the back of the couch.

Another successful mission accomplished, he thought cheerfully, pulling his grace back and grinning over at Jared. The kid was gazing at his friends with an adorably soppy expression that Gabriel was going to have to make fun of him for later.

When he wasn’t feeling much the same way.

Because this? This had potential. This could be _it_. Months and months of dancing around each other, Gabriel and Jared doing everything they could to subtly and secretly bring them together, and if they were lucky, it was going to come down to the moment Jensen and Misha woke.

Because there was no doubt they’d wake up curled together, clinging to each other here the way Gabriel was sure they did in their dreams. And when that happened, Jensen was going to have a hell of a time talking his way around it before Misha – Dad willing – finally figured some things out.

Yeah. Jared was a genius.

~*~

Jensen burrowed further into the warmth that was wrapped around him, breathing deeply the faint, familiar scent of deep woods and cool breezes, of pine and fall leaves and something else, something that was so unique it could only belong to one person.

_Misha._

He sighed, not wanting to wake, not wanting to be pulled from the dream where he could nestle further into the comfort of Misha’s embrace without fear of being pushed away.

 _Misha_ , he thought again, murmuring the name out loud, feeling it like a brand across his heart.

The arms around him tightened, and Jensen froze, his mind slowly catching up.

_Not a dream._

He shifted, was already trying to pull away, desperately searching for an excuse he could give, _any_ excuse, when he became aware of two things. The first was Misha’s voice in his ear, barely a whisper, sleep-heavy and rough and beautiful. “Easy there, Bright Eyes. Calm down, it’s okay. _Stay._ Please.”

The second was that Misha wasn’t letting him go.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Jensen felt his body relax. He let his eyes flutter open, let himself drink in the sight of Misha, so close and so perfect, right where Jensen had wanted him to be for so long. Misha had already fallen back to sleep, his hold on Jensen loosening but still not letting go, and something in Jensen, some part that had been so full of fear, released. Let go of the fear and took hold of the moment. The _rightness._

Moving slowly so as not to wake the man curled in beside him, Jensen gently brushed his lips across Misha’s temple and followed him back into dreams.

~*~

Gabriel watched the exchange from the entryway, a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth as Jared came up behind him.

“We did a good thing here, didn’t we?” the actor asked softly.

“Yeah, kid. Pretty sure we did.” Jared’s hand on his arm was warm, too warm, and Gabriel closed his eyes and breathed, feeling his wings twitch, grateful that Jared couldn’t feel it.

They backed out of the room quietly, leaving their friends to sleep. There wasn’t anything more they could do here.

~*~

The second time Jensen woke, nothing had really changed except that his mind felt clearer, and he could feel Misha’s soft breath against his forehead. He didn’t remember them shifting at any point in the night to lie down, but they must have. He was pressed against Misha so tightly it was a wonder they hadn’t fused together, Misha’s arms still wrapped around him, Jensen’s head resting on his shoulder, and Jensen couldn’t remember a single moment of his life where he’d ever felt so comfortable.

Misha’s face was turned toward him in sleep, and Jensen couldn’t quite stop himself from reaching a hand up, tracing his thumb along the older man’s mouth. Misha’s eyes fluttered, opened, sleepy cobalt meeting shy viridian. He blinked, lips curling. “Hey there, Bright Eyes.”

And then it was easy, too easy, to lift himself up just a little, to breathe the same air as Misha for just long enough to question, to _ask_ …

Misha’s lips were cool when he pressed them to Jensen’s, his hand gentle when he carded it through Jensen’s hair, and Jensen lost himself to the sensation of Misha being all around him. It was quiet, the way they moved against each other, the way Misha’s tongue flicked out, brushed Jensen’s mouth, the way Jensen opened for him, the way Jensen’s _heart_ opened for him.

“How long,” Misha breathed. “Jen, _how long_?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jensen whispered back, meaning it, and he kissed him again.

~*~

Misha and Jensen were destined to move glacier-like throughout the entirety of their lives and beyond, but Gabriel thought it was okay. He enjoyed watching them grow closer together as the days passed, liked watching as light touches became caresses, as caresses slowly became something more. Every time they kissed, he felt the stirrings of pride, because maybe they’d been destined to be together – and he was sure of that, now – but he’d helped them get there. Every time he looked at Jared during those moments, he knew the younger man felt the same way.

It was amazing, really, how little actually changed otherwise. Misha was there just as often as he already had been, although Gabriel knew the lease was up on his apartment at the end of the year, and he had some predictions about what would happen then. Jensen and Jared still bickered like an old married couple. Misha and Gabriel still went out and bonded over the beauty of the earth and the sky and the sea and the stars and the world in general. Jared and Gabriel still orbited each other like opposing magnets, always reaching, never touching, and the only difference there was that, the more Gabriel watched Jensen and Misha, the more aware of it he became.

And the more he thought he was ready for it.

~*~

It wasn’t the first time Misha had spent the night, wasn’t even the first time Misha had spent the night in his bed. But it was the first time Misha touched him like this, his intent clear in the dimly-lit room as they lay on the bed. It was the first time he moved in that particular way, stripping his t-shirt off and helping Jensen with his own. It was the first time he pressed against Jensen chest to chest, skin to skin.

It was also the first time Jensen saw it.

The little silver hoop that pierced Misha’s left nipple.

His breath stuttered in his chest, his eyes widening as he traced it with two fingers. “Oh my God,” he said, the beginnings of a smile forming. He didn’t need light to know that Misha was blushing. “This is…this is how you _knew!_ About Gabriel not being Richard!”

It felt like a million years ago, now, but Misha clearly remembered well enough. He groaned, dropping his forehead to Jensen’s chest. “Can we not talk about that?”

“You knew because you did it together,” Jensen snickered. “God, how drunk _were_ you guys?”

“Very,” was the mumbled reply.

Before Jensen could make another comment, Misha was kissing his chest, licking his way up, tracing Jensen’s nipple with his tongue, and it didn’t take long for Jensen to well and truly forget what he’d been about to say.

But he was sure it would have been witty and awesome.

~*~

When the Call came, Gabriel was entirely unprepared for it. One minute, he was studying the steaming Thanksgiving apple pie on the counter with a critical eye – not enough cinnamon, he thought, but he’d work on it – and the next, he was on his knees on the floor as a Voice tore through him, making him shudder right down to his bones. His wings ached, trembling from within their confines, and he held them in desperately.

__  
**Come to me.**   


It was power and fury and he cried out at the vastness of it, at the _familiarity_ of it, at everything it meant and represented. _Father_ , he thought, desperately. _Father…_

__  
**Come to me, son. I am here.**   


“Gabriel?”

It was Jared’s voice behind him, but Gabriel kept his eyes squeezed shut, because he couldn’t look into those hazel eyes right now. “Jared, look away,” he begged, because his Father was calling him, and he had to answer. There was no choice, none.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Misha, now, and Gabriel groaned as he shuddered again, his wings spasming. “ _Look away_ , damn it!” he yelled, and then there was nothing but the agony of his wings, grace-bright and familiar, forcing themselves free, forcing themselves corporeal, forcing themselves open.

When it was over, he didn’t look up. _Couldn’t_ look up. He just continued to kneel, panting, wishing away everything about the last ten minutes. _Can I call a do-over?_ he wondered, and then flinched as a hand landed on his shoulder. He could _feel_ Jared staring at him, and at least that meant he was all right, that Gabriel’s grace breaking free hadn’t been enough to hurt him, but…

“Gabriel…” Jared’s voice was…off. It was hard for Gabriel to consider that it could be anything other than fear or revulsion, because this was what Gabriel was. This was what these people had been housing for the past several months, and he knew how humans normally reacted to something like him. Something unfamiliar and vast and _frightening_. But when he heard Jared’s voice, he forced his eyes open, made himself stand. Behind him, his wings rustled, and Jared’s hand fell away.

__  
**Come, Gabriel.**   


He could feel Misha and Jensen behind him, watching him, and Jared’s presence was all bright warmth and sharp radiance. There was no time for everything he wanted to say, no way to take in more than one quick look at the man standing at his side, to gasp at everything he saw in that gaze.

And as he spread his wings wider and flew, he imprinted the image of Jared’s face in his memory, kept hold of the awe, and the reverence, and the compassion, and the caring…and that other shapeless thing that he couldn’t name. That he _wouldn’t_ name.

Not yet.

When he finally – _finally_ – came to be standing before his Father for the first time in countless years, they were on the highest peak of a mountain range halfway around the world, and it was nothing like he assumed their first meeting after so many millennia would go. He bowed his head, wings dropping to the ground. “Hey, Dad,” he whispered, and there was pain in the words. So much pain.

“Gabriel.” There was silence for a moment, as the being currently known as Chuck took a step forward. “I’ve missed you.”

Gabriel shifted, his grace flaring, his heart tightening. “Missed you too.” He swallowed, gave up all pretense, because he knew why he was here, knew what his Father wanted. He closed his eyes for a moment and simply begged. “Dad… _Please_.”

Nothing more was required. His Father knew what he meant.

Chuck’s eyes, when Gabriel finally raised his head to meet them again, glowed with the wisdom of the ages, the warmth of love and family, the comfort of Heaven. “You would choose this?” He asked, nothing in His voice to give away what He was thinking. “To never see your family again? Never return home?” His voice softened as He stepped forward and placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Your grace is faded here, and not even I can change that without upsetting a balance. You’ll always be more than human, and always be less than an angel. You’ll grow old, Gabriel, and you’ll die, just like them.”

Gabriel’s eyes closed again, and his wings trembled, just a little. He thought of Dean and Sam and Castiel, those he’d left behind. He thought maybe, if he returned, he could make them see what they so desperately needed to. Thought maybe, if he worked at it, they’d come to accept him into their lives, eventually. He thought of a Heaven governed by a brother who was fair, by a brother who hated the fighting as much as he did. He thought of a world where he had the power to make a difference, where he could help them put things right. _Saving people. Hunting things._

He thought of Misha, the brother he’d never asked for, and Jensen, the friend he’d never wanted. The easy way they accepted him, welcomed him, _wanted_ him in their lives. And he thought of Jared, and everything he felt growing between them, day by day, fragile and precious and perfect. The look that had been in Jared’s eyes when he first – finally – gazed on proof of what Gabriel truly was.

“They are my family,” he whispered, his eyes opening, his gaze finding his Father’s. “And this is my home. Yes, I would choose to stay, Dad. If you’re giving me the choice.”

“I would have you happy, my son,” Chuck replied, His voice heavy. He cupped Gabriel’s cheek in His hand, kissed Gabriel’s forehead. “And if you are truly happy, it means you have learned the lesson I hoped you would.”

Gabriel blinked. “Lesson? What lesson? I don’t…”

“You’ve been alone for so long, Gabriel, because you thought you had to be. You had to learn to trust again, to open your heart, to _allow_ yourself to believe in family once more. And you’ve done so, you’ve done all that and more.” Chuck’s eyes were bright, even with the sadness that lurked in their depths. “I’m proud of you, Gabriel. So very proud of you.” He stepped back, smiled, and Gabriel could only watch. “Be well, my son. I love you.”

And then He was gone, leaving only the faintest trace of Heaven behind him. Gabriel bowed his head and let the tears he’d been holding back finally fall.

~*~

 

_Several months later…_

 

It was impossible. It _should_ have been impossible, and everyone from the writers to the directors to the _network_ didn’t seem to be able to comprehend how it had happened, how it was being _allowed_ to happen.

But it was.

Jensen and Misha had gotten the script only that afternoon, had sat and read it with wide eyes and slack-jawed incredulity, and when they’d turned to each other, the first thing to flash through both their minds was that they needed to tell Gabriel, _now_.

Which was why Jensen was bursting through the front door, racing through the house, skidding to a halt in the family room where the archangel was curled up with Jared on the couch while they watched some boring television show. He pulled in a ragged breath of air, brandishing the script at Gabriel and ignoring the raised eyebrow and irritating smirk.

“ _Read it_ ,” he demanded, his mouth pulling up in a crazy-big smile. Jared regarded him with curiosity, but when Gabriel opened to the first page and started reading, the actor looked at the script over his shoulder and followed along.

Jensen waited with baited breath, eyes tracking every sharp inhale, every dark look, every tense muscle. He fidgeted impatiently, watching Gabriel and silently urging him to read _faster_ , damn it.

He knew the second the archangel reached the part he was waiting for, because Gabriel’s jaw _dropped_ , and he nearly dropped the script in shock as his eyes flew to Jensen’s. “Is this…”

Jensen nodded, grinning so hard it fucking _hurt_. “Line for line, we start filming next week.”

Misha came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jensen as Jared turned Gabriel toward him and grinned, kissed him, slid a hand into the archangel’s hair and pressed their foreheads together when Gabriel seemed unable to speak. Jensen turned to regard Misha, his heart skipping a beat at the soft look in the other man’s eyes.

“I think I’m more excited about the part where we get to make out on-screen,” Misha purred into Jensen’s ear.

Jensen laughed, tugging the older man into a kiss. “You would be,” he growled.

Misha blinked innocently at him, blue eyes sparkling. “Think of all the practice we’ll need!”

“Hey,” Jared said sharply, grinning when they looked over at him and Gabriel. “Can we talk about the part where I get to be all _non_ -emo for once? Because that’s pretty damn awesome.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’ll be happy and huggy and adorable, and you’ll _still_ come across as emo. There are some things that you can’t hide no matter how good an actor you are.”

When Jared stuck his tongue out at him, Jensen laughed again, laughed harder when Gabriel joined in, looking more carefree and happy and _joyful_ than he had since dropping into their lives almost a year ago now.

Things were going to change soon.

The script lying on the floor was a beginning for the people Gabriel had left behind, even while it was the end of a chapter in the lives of the people he’d found. The end of the show, the end of what had brought them all together in one way or another. The story was, as it had always been, a story about family, about forgiveness, about love in all its forms. It was everything it should have been and more, as both a beginning _and_ an ending.

More than that, it was Gabriel being assured that he’d done the right thing. His old family was where they should have been all along. And his new family wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how things changed in their lives now.

Everything was in place, everything was how it was always meant to be.

Gabriel and Jared, and Misha and Jensen…they were family now. And they were _home_.

 

~* The End *~


End file.
